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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26844094">Weathering the Storm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWanderingAvarian/pseuds/TheWanderingAvarian'>TheWanderingAvarian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Regression/De-Aging, Akira's a very adult-like little kid, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, De-Aged Akira Kurusu, Existential Angst, Gen, Harm to Children, Least fluffy de-aging fic tbh, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, implied child neglect</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:15:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>97,723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26844094</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWanderingAvarian/pseuds/TheWanderingAvarian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Akira's having a bad day. It was bad enough when a freak lightning storm went and ruined his fishing trip. It gets significantly worse when he wakes up in a magic casino full of monsters and weirdos in cosplay, with no memory of how he got there. But he'll work it out. </p>
<p>He always does, after all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akechi Goro &amp; Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro &amp; Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro &amp; Persona 5 Protagonist, Amamiya Ren &amp; Morgana (Persona Series), Amamiya Ren &amp; Phantom Thieves of Hearts, Kurusu Akira &amp; Morgana, Kurusu Akira &amp; Phantom Thieves of Hearts, Morgana &amp; Persona 5 Protagonist, Persona 5 Protagonist &amp; Phantom Thieves of Hearts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>542</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Marigolds Discord Recs, Quality Persona Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Lightning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He should have headed home two hours ago. </p><p>The clouds had been building all day, and he ought to have taken it as a warning—but no. The lure of the sea was just too much. Besides, he needed to catch some fish today—he still hadn’t decided whether or not to sell them or eat them when the heavens had opened and ruined all of his plans. </p><p>The rain hammered down like it had been waiting all day to lay its wrath on humanity. It was so heavy Akira could barely see where he was going as he stumbled up the cliffs, the rocks slippery and treacherous beneath his feet. The thought briefly crossed his mind that he could die here if he fell. He quickly brushed it off. What was death to him anyway? He needed to focus on getting to the top. </p><p>Gripping his fishing box and rod tightly in one hand, the stone beneath his fingers with the other, he made his way slowly, persistently up. </p><p>His clothes were wet through—he hadn’t thought to bring a coat (idiot) and his boots were heavy with water. His body spasmed as the cold seemed to sink into his bones. He took a deep breath. He needed to keep going. No one was coming to help him. He just had to keep moving. </p><p>Bit by bit, inch by inch, he made his way up the cliff, until finally, finally he was on solid ground once again. </p><p>He fell to his knees as exhaustion pounded through his head, blood rushing in his ears. It was almost loud enough that he didn’t hear the thunder crackling overhead. Great. This was going to be a lightning storm. He needed to get moving again. </p><p>He picked up his fishing equipment with a heavy sigh, then looked up, trying to make out the outline of the forest through the torrential rain. There was a dark shape just ahead of him. That would give him some shelter, at least. </p><p>He stumbled through the rain as it battered down all around him, the wind howling in his ears. As he got closer the outline of the trees became clearer, until he was finally able to squeeze beneath the vast canopy, sheltered just a little from the relentless downpour. </p><p>Of course, he couldn’t stay there long, not with the threat of lightning hitting at any moment. But the only way down to the town from the cliffs was through the forest, so for now, he had no choice. </p><p>And it was nice to be out of the rain—even if only for a little while. </p><p>He knew the forest like the back of his hand, so, after he’d taken a moment to catch his breath, he started moving again. Through the branches, over the rocks and roots sticking up through the undergrowth. At least there was more to cling onto in the forest. </p><p>He was almost at the edge, almost back to the town when he felt it. A strange tingling sensation running all the way through his body. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Damn it. </p><p>He dropped his fishing equipment, crouched low to the ground, rose up onto the balls of his feet, hands on his knees, as he prepared for the lightning to strike. Thunder rumbled through the sky. The rain poured down, crackling all around, and then—</p><p>A flash of light behind his eyes.</p><p>And, strangely, the rain stopped. The noise, however, did not. </p><p>It was different though—he could hear shouting. Who was shouting? And so nearby too...</p><p>He cracked a cautious eye open. He did not like what he saw. </p><p>Where before there had been the forest, and the rain, and the howling thunderstorm, there was now a very large, very vibrantly coloured room. </p><p>Oh, and a monster. That was important too. </p><p>From the corner of his eye, he could see that, miraculously, his fishing equipment was still there, and quickly he went to grab it. He felt that, regardless of whatever had just happened, he didn’t climb all the way up a cliff in a thunderstorm just to lose his fish. </p><p>He also noticed that, as well as this room, and the monster, there were an awful lot of people here. Most of them looked normal. Some of them did not. Dressed in flashy, almost cartoonish costumes, they were dancing around, apparently trying to defeat the monster. Some of them were looking at him. </p><p>He quickly found he wasn’t at all keen on it. </p><p>He wasn’t used to people looking at him. In Itoiyama one of the local sports might as well have been ‘ignoring Akira Kurusu’, and it was one that he wholeheartedly endorsed. </p><p>As he began backing away from this group of weirdos, one of them (a tall girl with a bob and shoulder-spikes that looked liable to poke someone’s eye out) looked directly at him and shouted, “Someone take care of Joker!” </p><p>It didn’t take much thought to conclude that ‘Joker’ was in some way related to him, because everyone on the outskirts of the fighting suddenly fixated on him. </p><p>Akira had always been one to trust his instincts when it came to split-second moments like this, where something dramatic was about to happen. And right now his instincts were telling him to run. So he did.</p><p>He sprinted away from the fight, and the room, and colours—and though his clothes were wet and heavy, and his boots were sodden, and his equipment kept slipping in his hands, he found that it did not slow him down. Something about this place seemed to energise him—and briefly he wondered that he might be dead—but there was no time for that.</p><p>In seconds he’d leapt into the elevator and slammed the button for the ground floor, willing the doors to close before any of his pursuers caught up. They could run fast too, it seemed. </p><p>But not fast enough. </p><p>Just before they could get inside, the elevator doors slammed shut, and he was plummeting down to the ground floor. </p><p>It was slightly thrilling. He’d never been in an elevator this large before. </p><p>He let his grip on the fishing equipment slacken, and leant against the side of the elevator, breathing hard. Finally, he had some space to think. And there was a lot to think about. First and foremost: where was he? This place certainly wasn’t his hometown, Itoiyama. There was nothing half so flashy there. So he had to be in a city. But which one? And how had he gotten there? And what was that monster?</p><p>His head began to buzz with tension. It was all too much to think about at once. If there was one thing that was for certain though, it was that this place was dangerous, and so it would probably be a good idea to leave as quickly as possible. </p><p>Almost as if the gods had heard his thoughts, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. </p><p>Akira blinked. He was fairly sure now he knew what this place was. It was a casino. And as he looked closer he saw it was a very strange casino. Because all the workers seemed to be monsters too. </p><p>He hurried out of the elevator and ducked behind a row of slot machines, watching as the shadowy people prowled back and forth up the length of the room. There were large glass doors at the end. Those had to be the exit. </p><p>A few minutes of observation allowed him to recognise that these creatures had quite set patrol routes up and down the room—ones that could be easily taken advantage of by someone small and fast like him. </p><p>He dodged along a row of slot machines, then hid behind the next, waiting for the shadow to pass. He crept out behind it and ran for the middle of the room, where there were benches for people to sit on. The normal-looking people here, he noted, seemed perfectly content to keep up with the seemingly national sport of ‘ignoring Akira Kurusu’—and he was just fine with that. It was only the people in costumes that appeared to notice him. They hadn’t shown up again yet. It was just as well. </p><p>A few more short sprints took him through the large glass doors and out—out into the wider world at last! </p><p>His exhilaration at escaping the casino lasted only a few short minutes, as he observed the sky was a strange shade of red, and the buildings all distinctly unfamiliar to him. He had been right. He was in a city. But he had no idea what to do. </p><p>For a moment he felt quite suddenly that he should just sit down and burst out crying. He didn’t know anything about this place. In Itoiyama everything and everyone was familiar, recognisable on sight. Here...here there was danger. His throat began to close up as his brain went into overdrive, imagining all the things that could go wrong, him, all alone in the city...</p><p>But he couldn’t be having hysterics like this. Already, a voice in his mind was telling him to try and think clearly, to calm down for a moment. </p><p>He breathed deeply. No one here was going to help him, and crying in the middle of the street would only attract unwanted attention. He ground his teeth together and screwed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry. He had this under control. He always had it under control. He was alone in the city, but if he had his fishing equipment he surely also had his wallet and his phone. That was all he’d need to get somewhere safe. First he had to work out where he was.</p><p>He wandered a bit further away from the casino, and the sky lost its red colour and the buildings looked a little less bright and intimidating. The sun was out, but it was cold—and it was even colder because he was still soaking wet. He reached into his pocket, hoping against hope that his phone was still working. </p><p>It was just as wet as the rest of him, but when he clicked the power button it sprang to life. He quickly navigated to his location app and clicked it on, in the vain hope it would tell him where he was—assuming that where he was wasn’t some lightning-strike hell-dimension. That possibility <em>had</em> occurred to him. </p><p>But, much to his relief, it seemed he was not in hell, but instead in...Tokyo? He blinked and read the screen again. No, it definitely said Tokyo. And in front of the courthouse? That didn’t seem right—he’d just come out of a casino, after all.</p><p>He turned around to check, but found that, much to his dismay, the casino he’d wandered out of appeared to have vanished and been replaced by the very courthouse indicated on his map. </p><p>This was all very confusing. He could have sworn he was in Itoiyama not ten minutes ago. And he could have sworn he was in a casino not <em>five</em> minutes ago. </p><p>One option was that he’d suddenly and miraculously manifested teleportation abilities, but that didn’t seem quite right. </p><p>Then again, neither did being in Tokyo. </p><p>His clothes were still wet, he was reminded, as his entire body gave a large involuntary shiver. And the people walking by him on the street were starting to give him strange looks too. Probably not surprising. He found it likely that the people going to courthouses in Tokyo rarely saw soaking wet children with fishing equipment on a dry day miles away from any lake. Priority one then, was looking less suspicious. Fast. </p><p>He quickly typed in ‘clothing stores’ into his browser, and saw that the nearest one was ten minutes walk away. Best to get started. </p><p>He kept his head down as he walked along unfamiliar streets, though he tried not to be too obviously looking at his phone. He was painfully away that he could scarcely be more vulnerable than he was right now: an obviously out of place and lost-looking child in the middle of a city, clearly using his phone to navigate. He hated it, but he had little choice. The atmosphere of the city made him so nervous he broke into a half-run, eager to get to the store—to relative safety. </p><p>When he got there he saw it was much bigger than the stores he was used to back home, and for a moment he hesitated going inside. But no. It was safer in there than out here. And he really did need a change of clothes. </p><p>He walked into the store, still feeling more than a little out of place, and quickly looked around for the children’s section. It didn’t take him long to find it. </p><p>He was just looking for the cheapest pair of trousers and jumper he could buy, when someone put a hand on his shoulder. </p><p>He yelped and leapt away instinctively, coming face to face with an unfamiliar woman. </p><p>“Sorry!” she said, quickly removing her hand. She was dressed in what looked like a uniform. Perhaps she was a store worker. “Oh, goodness,” she said, looking him up and down, “you’re soaked, aren’t you?” </p><p>“Yes,” said Akira, his mind already racing with excuses. He needed to divert this woman’s suspicion as quickly as possible. Didn’t he see a fountain a ways back? “I fell in the fountain near the courthouse, so my parents sent me to buy some dry clothes!” </p><p>He put on a fake smile, as though being soaked to the bone and subsequently abandoned by his parents didn’t bother him. Adults generally ignored happy children, regardless of what they said. </p><p>“Oh,” said the woman, her face relaxing a little, “well aren’t you responsible? Would you like help getting those?” She pointed to clothes he picked out. “They’ll get wet too if you hold them.” </p><p>“Thank you,” said Akira, handing them to her. No point refusing, it would only make him look even worse.</p><p>She led him over to the counter, where she scanned the items and bagged them for him. Akira handed over the required change wordlessly. He was lucky this had happened at the beginning of the month, while he still had most of his savings. And he could possibly still sell these fish, if he played his cards right. </p><p>“There you go,” she said, handing the bag to him. Then she frowned a little. “Say, we have changing rooms back there if you want to use them,” she said, pointing to the back of the store. Akira looked over there himself. They seemed legitimate. </p><p>“Thank you,” he said again, bowing slightly. Again, adults loved polite children. And didn’t ask many questions about them. </p><p>The woman laughed, “It’s no problem!” </p><p>He hurried over to the changing rooms, drawing the curtain shut and discarding his soaking wet clothes. The new ones he’d bought were cheap, and therefore itchy and slightly ill-fitting, but they were dry, and right now that was the best he could hope for. He placed his wet clothes in the bag, and, before leaving the changing room, pulled out his phone again. Best to decide where he was going before leaving. </p><p>However he had gotten here, divine intervention or otherwise, he needed to leave as soon as possible. He wasn’t comfortable with the city. He didn’t know how it worked, and he had limited resources at his disposal as long as he was stuck there. And honestly even <em>his</em> parents, blasé as they were about most of the rest of his life, would be mildly concerned if he vanished from the town. Or at least, he hoped they would. If they’d even noticed yet...which they probably hadn’t. </p><p>No matter how he looked at it, going back to Itoiyama was his best option. And looking at the map, it seemed he was in luck, because there was a direct train line not far away. </p><p>He returned his phone to his pocket and took his leave of the store, smiling at the store clerk on the way out. </p><p>Now at least he knew where he was going.</p>
<hr/><p>Morgana was nonplussed. There seemed to be no solution.</p><p>"Are you sure you can't track his phone, Futaba?" asked Makoto, peering over her shoulder.</p><p>"No," sighed Futaba. "It's like it's vanished completely!"</p><p>"Maybe it has," said Akechi. Of course they would have to run into such difficult circumstances while he was around. "He appeared to be wearing different clothes as a child, so it would make sense if his phone disappeared too."</p><p>"Ugh, this is so frustrating!" cried Ryuji. "How could he have just run off like that?"</p><p>It had all happened so quickly. One moment they were all fighting together, the next Joker was crouched on the floor, reduced to the form of a small child. He must have been hit by some attack by the monster they were fighting, but it had happened so fast Morgana hadn't seen it. And now he was gone. He could be anywhere...</p><p>"He was probably frightened," said Lady Ann, making an excellent point. "It must have been terrifying to suddenly be face-to-face with a massive monster like that."</p><p>Makoto shook her head worriedly. "He's in more danger out here in the city all alone."</p><p>"Perhaps we should return to the Leblanc," suggested Yusuke. "Isn't it possible he remembers it as his home?"</p><p>"If he really has regressed to a child, that's unlikely," said Morgana. "It's not like he grew up in Tokyo or anything. I hope he's okay..."</p><p>The idea of anything happening to Akira was just unthinkable. He wanted to believe everything would be alright, that Akira would work things out, but if he really was just a kid how much could he do? They needed to find him. Quickly.</p><p>"Still nothing?" asked Makoto.</p><p>"Nothing," sighed Futaba.</p><p>"We may have no choice but to return to the Leblanc then."</p><p>"No!" cried Morgana, "we can't just leave! He's probably still around here somewhere, right?"</p><p>"Unless he's gotten on a train," pointed out Akechi.</p><p>"Why would he get on a train?" asked Morgana, scowling at him. "He has no idea where he is. We should go and look for him."</p><p>"I think Mona-chan's right," said Haru, "if we split up and search this area, we should find him eventually, right?"</p><p>"That does seem to be the best solution," sighed Makoto. "Okay, everyone choose an area to look, and text the chat if you see or hear anything about Akira, alright? We'll meet back up here in an hour if we don't find anything."</p><p>But they would find him. They had to.</p>
<hr/><p>Akira had made it all the way to the train station before being hit by another wave of terror. Why were there so many people here? He hated cities—he’d decided that now. They were too big, too crowded and too noisy. Back home was dull as dishwater, but he knew how to deal with dull. All of this was new, and <em>all</em> of it was horrible. Why would anyone choose to live here? </p><p>He forced himself to keep moving as these thoughts ran rampant through his head. It was a little easier to manage that way—and besides, if he stopped he was sure he was going to cry, and that was the last thing he wanted. </p><p>He managed to figure out where the ticket station was (though not without wanting to throw up three times before he found it) and saw the intimidating queue to get a ticket. He wasn’t sure he could deal with that right now. Nearby there was a rack of newspapers, and he went over, pretending to look at them to try and distract himself from the terror and the nausea. </p><p>The headline was something about ‘Phantom Thieves’—probably some new show or something, and he scanned to see if there was anything more interesting to read inside. Then his eyes fell on the date. And his heart seemed to stop. </p><p>Saturday 5th November, 2016. </p><p>
  <em>2016?</em>
</p><p>That couldn’t be right, could it? It was 2010. He <em>knew</em> it was 2010. But there was no way the newspaper was wrong, was there? There was no one pointing and laughing at the misprint, and as far as he knew Tokyo didn’t run six years ahead of everyone else in Japan. It was...2016? But then... How?</p><p>His head was spinning. Time travel? But that wasn’t real—it was something people only wrote about, a myth, a scientific impossibility! And yet...</p><p>“Meow!”</p><p>Akira span around, all his senses on high alert. But it was just a little cat that had crept up behind him. It was small and black all over, except for a white patch on its nose, and it stared up at him with bright blue eyes. At least they had cats in the future. It couldn’t be all bad then. </p><p>“Meow!” It seemed quite keen on getting his attention. </p><p>He knelt down and stroked its head gently, trying not to startle it. </p><p>“Hello kitty,” he said quietly. He got a lot of meows for that. “Shh,” he said, holding a finger up to his lips, though he knew the cat wouldn’t understand. “You’ll attract a lot of attention if you keep up like that.” </p><p>It seemed the cat did understand though, because it quickly stopped, instead looking up at him with quite a miserable expression on its face. </p><p>“You’re sad too, huh?” he muttered. He didn’t know why, but he felt far more inclined to talk to the cat than anyone around him. </p><p>He reached under its paws and picked it up, holding it like his cat back home. Fluffy. He hoped she wasn’t missing him. But if it really was 2016 perhaps she wasn’t there at all. It was a depressing thought. </p><p>The cat seemed fine with this development, because it didn’t try to wiggle out of his arms or otherwise kick up a fuss. Instead it leaned up and headbutted his face with its nose, making Akira laugh. </p><p>“Stop it!” he said, and took it over to sit on one of the benches at the station.</p><p>He needed to do some serious thinking. It was 2016. Supposedly. He’d appeared suddenly in Tokyo, in a casino which had vanished the moment he’d left. He’d been surrounded by people in strange costumes who called him ‘Joker’, and seemed anxious about him getting away. </p><p>It was <em>possible</em> he’d been kidnapped by time-travelling cosplay-wearing weirdos to be sold into child slavery in Tokyo, but frankly he found it unlikely. After all, why bother going after <em>him</em>, some nobody from a tiny fishing town that nothing ever happened in? No. That was just too weird. So what else might have happened? </p><p>An idea occurred to him. </p><p>He took out his phone again, and typed ‘Akira Kurusu’ into the browser. Apparently someone who shared his name was in a small band with a cult following, because the first few pages were full of nothing but her, but eventually he found something promising. A headline in his local newspaper. </p><p>
  <em>‘Teenage delinquent arrested for assault!’ </em>
</p><p>And there was a photo of him. </p><p>Well—not <em>him</em>, exactly. He was ten. This boy looked much older—but they had the same face. So it was definitely him. He’d been...arrested? For assault? </p><p>Akira turned his phone face-down and frowned. The cat tried to headbutt him again. He stroked its fur absentmindedly. </p><p>That didn’t seem right. He’d never assault someone—it’d bring far too much attention, even if the person did deserve it. He’d heard a lot about how teenagers were awful and bad at decision-making, but he hadn’t exactly believed it—until now, that is. If his sixteen-year-old self could be so stupid as to assault someone—and assault someone so badly that he’d be arrested... Ugh! This was all too confusing. And what did it have to do with him suddenly being in Tokyo? And in a magic casino to boot? </p><p>A nasty thought suddenly occurred to him. What if, after the assault, he’d been sent to Tokyo, and only gone on to do more crime? Crime like...robbing casinos? He’d always heard it was a slippery slope—that one crime could easily lead on to others if there wasn’t proper intervention. Was this what he’d become? A criminal? Was this because of the pranks he played back home? Maybe it was... But those people definitely deserved it. But wasn’t that a slightly criminal thought...?</p><p>The cat meowed again, stirring him from his reverie. It was nudging its head against his fishing box. His fishing box where the fish were. Right. Back to the present, Akira. </p><p>His crimes, future or otherwise, were irrelevant here. What was relevant was that he hated this city, and he wanted to leave, and get to shelter and safety, whatever form it took, as soon as possible. And he was taking this cat with him. </p><p>Itoiyama was now out, due to his crimes (if he ever met his future self, he had a few choice words for him) so he’d need to go somewhere else. He checked his map again, and saw that the nearest small village he could get to from here was that of Mota. It was about an hour’s train ride. Fine. </p><p>He got up from where he was sitting, and the cat quickly jumped up to follow him. Good kitty. </p><p>He joined the queue to get a ticket out of Tokyo with renewed determination. Even if it was a determination mostly born of spite.</p>
<hr/><p>To say Morgana was panicked would be...inaccurate. He wasn’t panicked. Just worried. Extremely worried. </p><p>Child Akira couldn’t hear him, and therefore couldn’t hear all his extremely good advice about going back to the Leblanc and finding his friends so they could keep him safe. Child Akira also didn’t talk to him like Normal Akira, as he didn’t know Morgana could understand him. And of course, that was a problem, because it meant he had no idea what Akira was thinking other than by trying to guess based on his expressions.</p><p>So far, all he could tell was that Akira was sad about something, and that he was buying a train ticket to Mota (where even was that?). </p><p>So Morgana was stuck. </p><p>On the one hand, he really wanted to go find one of the others so he could explain to the group where Akira was so they could come and get him. On the other hand, he didn’t want to lose Akira again. Especially not while Akira was feeling sad. </p><p>He’d done his best to try and cheer him up, and Akira did seem to smile whenever he did, but the sadness lingered. Morgana wished he could help. He wasn’t used to this. </p><p>It wasn’t long before the train arrived, and Morgana, helpless, followed Akira on-board, hoping vainly that at some point he’d be able to steal his phone and clumsily call one of his friends. How, exactly, he was going to do that was another matter, but he’d cross that bridge once he came to it. For now the phone was securely in Akira’s pocket, and he had no chance of getting it. </p><p>He’d noticed a couple of things about Akira already that differed from his older self: firstly he was far more withdrawn. Akira was a quiet sort outside his friends, Morgana knew that, but he was always doing something—be it reading, making tools, doing his part-time jobs—anything. Akira insisted on being busy, and it usually drove Morgana nuts. But this Akira, the younger Akira, didn’t seem to do much of anything. </p><p>He spent most of the train journey staring noiselessly out of the window, his face devoid of any expression as they raced across the city. His phone remained in his pocket, his fishing equipment gripped loosely in his hand. </p><p>Morgana supposed it made sense from a certain point of view: if the younger Akira had taken up fishing as a hobby he had to have a lot of patience. But there was something worrying about the vacantness of his gaze. As though he wasn’t quite there at all. </p><p>It was only when the train stopped, and the overhead speakers announced they were in Mota that he sprang to life again. He gathered up his things and beckoned for Morgana to follow him off the train, which of course, he did. </p><p>Which brought him to another odd thing about the younger Akira: he was very self-sufficient. Morgana had peeked in his shopping bag on the train, and saw it contained the clothes he’d been wearing when he first appeared in their world. They appeared to be very wet, so Akira must have bought some new ones, just like he’d bought his train ticket. So either his parents trusted him with a lot of money, or he’d stolen it from them.</p><p>One was less worrying than the other, and from a certain point of view it was good that Akira hadn’t panicked upon suddenly appearing in an unfamiliar city. But it wasn’t normal behaviour. So Morgana needed to watch him closely. </p><p>When they got off the train, Morgana noticed Akira’s aspect seemed to immediately relax. His shoulders were no longer tensed around his ears, and as he walked into the village, it was with a confident, even stride: not the nervous shuffle he’d had back in Tokyo. Did Akira know this place? Had he perhaps visited as a child? </p><p>There was only one way to find out.</p>
<hr/><p>The countryside was, in Akira’s opinion, vastly preferable to the cities. Or at least, it was in his limited experience of two countryside villages and one city. The air was cleaner, the buildings smaller, and the people quieter. And there were <em>fewer</em> people. That was absolutely vital.</p><p>He took an exploratory stroll around the village, working out where all the crucial places were: the food stores, the library, the hotel (one, and a small one at that), the laundry. It wasn’t long before he found the fishmongers too, and after much haggling and being told off for not having a licence, being so presumptuous, and so on and so forth, she was persuaded into buying Akira’s fish. </p><p>That transaction netted him 4,000¥—which was more than enough for the sandwich he wanted from the supermarket. The cat continued to follow closely on his heels, occasionally giving him a baleful meow, as though upset he was ignoring it. </p><p>“You’re not allowed any of my sandwich,” he told it, as he found a fence to sit on. </p><p>That elicited the loudest meow he’d heard yet. Akira couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, it’s almost like you can understand me.” The cat gave another depressed meow. “That would be pretty fantastical though, wouldn’t it?”</p><p>The thought occurred to him that so was time travelling to 2016 and learning his future self was a criminal, but he didn’t want to think about that, so he concentrated instead on eating his sandwich. </p><p>He pulled out his phone again—though he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like there was much he could do except try to scrape by on the funds he had in this village until he could work out what was going on. His best bet was probably by finding those fools in the costumes...but it was possible they were part of a gang, and he wanted to avoid that if at all possible. </p><p>He clicked the screen on with a sigh. Then he noticed something he hadn’t seen before. </p><p>A new app. A red icon, with a strange eye on it. Odd. He couldn’t remember downloading it. </p><p>He gave it a cautionary tap—it would be entertainment if nothing else. But then he felt very dizzy. And the world seemed to shift...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Child Akira: *finds himself magically in a casino with actual literal monsters* -_-<br/>Also Child Akira: *finds out his future self committed a crime* &gt;:O </p><p>Hope you guys enjoyed chapter one of this self-indulgent nonsense! I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with it, but it's all about the journey, right? Oh, and for clarity about Akira's phone—he does have one, but it's different to the one he has at age 16/17 (when's his birthday anyway?) so that's why Futaba can't find it with her bug. He'll probably meet back up with the Thieves eventually, but for now it's just poor old Morgana who has to deal with his shenanegans. Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Metaverse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This was weird. </p>
<p>As soon as he’d tapped the app, it was like he’d entered a dream—he felt suddenly incredibly dizzy, and the world had shifted and slid in place, and then...then it was normal. But it wasn’t normal. Everything had a strange red tint to it—not dissimilar to the sky outside the magic casino, and it all looked...brighter, somehow? He wasn’t sure how else to explain it. But by far the weirdest change was—</p>
<p>“Ha!” shouted the terrifying mascot thing that had appeared beside him. “I knew I wouldn’t be stuck forever!”</p>
<p>It was small, maybe two feet tall at most, with a tiny body, and an enormous head that looked a bit like a cat. In fact, it was sitting in the same place <em>the</em> cat had been, and Akira wasn’t at all happy about it. He’d liked that cat.</p>
<p>“What <em>are</em> you?” he asked, staring at it.</p>
<p>“What am I?” asked the thing, looking very offended. “I’m Morgana!” </p>
<p>It seemed to think that answer cleared everything up. “But what <em>are</em> you?” Akira repeated, more slowly. “You aren’t that cat that’s been following me, are you?” </p>
<p>“I’m not a cat!” Morgana screeched, and Akira reached for his ears, the sound too much. It looked a little abashed at provoking that reaction, and then said, more quietly, “But I was following you, yes.”</p>
<p>“So...you <em>are</em> a cat. In the real world.”</p>
<p>Morgana scowled at him. “The real world isn’t important. I’m just...trapped as a cat there. Here, I’m human!”</p>
<p>Akira squinted at him. He didn’t look human to Akira. But he seemed quite adamant on it, so perhaps there was no point arguing. </p>
<p>“So...where are we, exactly?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>Morgana gave a deep sigh, his head bobbing down in front of him. “It’s called the Metaverse. I’d hoped you wouldn’t find out about it, but I suppose it’s a good thing we can actually talk now.”</p>
<p>“The Metaverse?” So it had an actual name and everything? “Was that where I was before—in the casino?”</p>
<p>Morgana nodded. </p>
<p>“Why did it change? How did I leave?”</p>
<p>Morgana gave another sigh. “It’s...complicated.” </p>
<p>Clearly he didn’t want to answer properly, but Akira could hardly just let him get away with that. He looked down at his phone again. “It’s got something to do with this app, right? When I pressed it I came here. But I didn’t need it to leave, so that must work differently. What was I doing there anyway? Who were those people? Are we criminals?” </p>
<p>“Woah, woah, woah,” said Morgana, holding up his little hands, “slow down there a minute.” </p>
<p>Akira sighed, aware of heat rising to his cheeks. That had been a lot of questions, hadn’t it? </p>
<p>“We <em>aren’t</em> criminals,” said Morgana, sounding quite offended by the notion. “We’re Phantom Thieves!” </p>
<p>Phantom Thieves? He’d seen that somewhere before, hadn’t he? Still... “Y’know thieves are criminals, right? They steal stuff? That’s against the law.” </p>
<p>“Not what we steal,” said Morgana, smugly. </p>
<p>Akira raised his eyebrows. “What <em>do</em> you steal?” </p>
<p>“Hearts, of course!” said Morgana, as though that solved everything.</p>
<p>Hearts? Well, it was true that that wasn’t against the law, but it still sounded pretty shady. </p>
<p>“So you’re like...pick-up artists?” </p>
<p>He didn’t like to think his older self was a criminal, but being some scummy creep that took advantage of women wasn’t exactly a prestigious profession either. </p>
<p>“No!” howled Morgana, his tail fluffing up with righteous fury at this claim. “That’s not what I meant—it’s like—changing people’s minds! Reforming criminals!”</p>
<p>“Reforming criminals?” That sounded...kind of incredible, actually. “How does that work?”</p>
<p>Morgana grinned, apparently pleased he was taking an interest.</p>
<p>“This world is made up of people’s perceptions—built off of their thoughts, if you will, and in certain places, where certain people’s thoughts and desires get too strongly distorted, it overrides the normal Metaverse, and a thing called a Palace forms. That’s where you were when you showed up.”</p>
<p>“A Palace? Why did it look like a casino?” </p>
<p>“The person who’s heart we were trying to steal thinks of her work as a rigged game, like in a casino,” Morgana explained. </p>
<p>The casino had turned into the courthouse when he left the Metaverse. So this person was probably a lawyer. That made sense. There was a reason so few trials got brought to court in their country... Which made it all the more egregious that his older self had managed it. </p>
<p>“And if you’d done it—stolen her heart, I mean—she’d stop thinking like that?”</p>
<p>Morgana beamed. “Exactly!”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” said Akira. </p>
<p>That sounded like a power that could be both good and bad. Of course, changing criminals’ minds had to be a good thing if it stopped them committing crimes, right? But on the other hand, taking away a person’s free will like that...</p>
<p>“These Palaces only form when someone’s super distorted, you said?” asked Akira. “So those people that have them—are they always bad people?”</p>
<p>Morgana looked a little taken aback at that question. “Wow, you have a lot more questions now than you did bef—I mean—not always!” Ah. So this cat did know his older self. Interesting. “Distortions don’t have to be evil, after all—I mean, someone suicidal could have a Palace, because they have a really distorted desire to die—something like that!” </p>
<p>He seemed flustered to have revealed that he knew Akira’s older self. Why? </p>
<p>“And I’m a part of your group, the Phantom Thieves, right?” </p>
<p>Morgana suddenly turned irritated. “Hey! How do you know about that? Aren’t you way younger than usual?”</p>
<p>“Um, it wasn’t that hard to figure out,” said Akira, slightly offended that Morgana seemed to think he was so stupid. “And I’m not that young.”</p>
<p>“How old are you?” asked Morgana, eyeing him suspiciously. </p>
<p>“Ten.”</p>
<p>“Haha!” Morgana said gleefully. </p>
<p>Akira glared at him. “What’s so funny?”</p>
<p>“Nothing,” said Morgana, trying and failing to hide his grin. “But that is pretty young y’know.”</p>
<p>Akira rolled his eyes. “I’m only seventeen in the present, and that’s not that old either.” </p>
<p>Morgana averted his eyes. “Fine, fine, I guess you have a point.” </p>
<p>“So that’s what I do here then?” asked Akira. “Steal people’s hearts? Why am I in Tokyo?” </p>
<p>Morgana sighed, his head dipping again. “Well, for why you’re here in Tokyo...”</p>
<p>“It’s because I committed a crime, right?” </p>
<p>Morgana’s head snapped up, and he fixed Akira with a startled gaze. “W-wait, how do you know about that?”</p>
<p>“I looked it up,” said Akira, pointing at his phone. </p>
<p>“Ugh, you’re so...” Morgana shook his head vigorously, as though unable to think of the right word. </p>
<p>“So what?”</p>
<p>“So <em>you</em>,” sighed Morgana. “Even now. You’re a really weird kid, you know that?” </p>
<p>“There’s no need to be rude,” said Akira, a little affronted. “And you didn’t answer my question. Am I criminal?” </p>
<p>Morgana gave a sad smile. “Well, you were arrested and charged, so technically yes. But if you ask me then no, you’re not a criminal.” </p>
<p>That was...a strange answer. Maybe his older self wasn’t as bad as he’d been imagining. </p>
<p>“What happened?” </p>
<hr/>
<p>It was hard to read Akira’s face as Morgana explained the circumstances of his older self’s arrest and probation. When Morgana came to the end of the story all he said was, “Such vile people really exist?” but quietly, almost to himself. </p>
<p>Even now it was hard to know what to make of him. </p>
<p>He was smart, that much was obvious—how quickly he’d grasped the idea of the Metaverse, even at the age of only ten. Not to mention how quickly he’d deduced he was in the future and had replaced his older self. And not that the older Akira <em>wasn’t</em> smart—he was, he was just...far subtler about it. Morgana was even inclined to suggest he tried to hide it—except when exam results day came and he could brag about being top of the class—and everyone else could accuse him of cheating. </p>
<p>The younger Akira—there was something sharp about him—raw, in a way his older self tended to hide. It was...confusing. </p>
<p>“Who was he?” Akira asked suddenly.</p>
<p>“What?” asked Morgana, a little startled. </p>
<p>“The person who got me arrested,” said Akira, and there was an angry, indignant light in his eyes now. “Who was he?” </p>
<p>It had never occurred to Morgana up until that moment that Akira might want revenge on the one who got him arrested. He never spoke about it, and when he did it was in a bored, distracted sort of voice, as though it was a hassle to explain and he didn’t really care about it anyway. But that was not the case with the younger Akira. <em>He</em> was angry. His small face had gone pale, his dark eyes cold and hard, and even though he was only ten years old, there was an energy about him that put Morgana on edge.</p>
<p>Perhaps it was because they were in the Metaverse, where all emotions tended to be amplified...but perhaps it wasn’t. </p>
<p>“I don’t know,” said Morgana. “It was dark and...your older self doesn’t seem to have clear memories of his face.”</p>
<p>“I see,” said Akira, and the vengeful aura seemed to dissipate a little. But only a little. </p>
<p>“Why did you want to know?” </p>
<p>Akira clenched his fists by his sides, staring off into the distance. “Because it wasn’t right, what he did,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “And if he got me arrested, he must be powerful too. He must have done it to other people.” He turned suddenly back to Morgana, his eyes wide. “I bet he has a Palace too, you know. I bet he’s one of those people whose hearts you steal. Why don’t you go after him?”</p>
<p>This conversation was beginning to take an alarming turn. </p>
<p>“We can only go after one person at a time!” Morgana stuttered. “It’s too much otherwise. And we need to finish this one first. It’s really important.” </p>
<p>They still had to carry out the plan, after all. But if Akira remained stuck as a child then...no he couldn’t think like that. This was surely only temporary. And speaking of him being a child...</p>
<p>“Oh,” said Akira, sounding rather disappointed. “Still, you could go after him next...” </p>
<p>“Right,” said Morgana, “but—y’know you’d have to be back to normal to do that, right?” </p>
<p>“Back to normal?” asked Akira, as though the concept confused him. Then the lights switched on. “Oh! Right. I’m not supposed to be here.” The sadness Morgana observed before came back to him. “I’m supposed to be back home.” </p>
<p>“Do you like home?” asked Morgana, creeping a bit closer to him. It was something he’d always wondered about, since Akira never spoke about it. </p>
<p>“It’s alright, I guess,” said Akira, noncommittally. </p>
<p>Morgana’s fur stood on end. “Come on! You have to give me more than that!” </p>
<p>Akira laughed softly at his theatrics. Good. He didn’t like it when Akira was sad. </p>
<p>“It’s fine,” he said, with a shrug. “Better than Tokyo.”</p>
<p>“Better than Tokyo?” asked Morgana, scarcely believing his ears. “But Tokyo’s great! There’s so much stuff—so many people.”</p>
<p>“<em>Too</em> many people,” said Akira, firmly. “I like the quiet. I could barely even hear myself think back there.” </p>
<p>“I don’t believe this,” muttered Morgana, for some reason feeling quite betrayed by Akira’s proclamation, though it had nothing to do with him. “So you prefer it back in...”</p>
<p>He realised he didn’t actually know where Akira used to live. A whole new level of embarrassing. </p>
<p>“Itoiyama?” finished Akira, not noticing Morgana’s humiliation. “And yeah, I do. It’s way more peaceful.” </p>
<p>“But that’s not right at all!” Morgana insisted, though he had no idea why he was so adamant on the point. “You don’t...” </p>
<p>Oh. That was why. Akira’s older self liked Tokyo. He’d said so several times. Had he been lying? Or had he just changed as a person? But he’d never said he didn’t like his hometown either, he just never talked about it. Morgana had always assumed that was because he hated it, but what if he actually missed it? Perhaps he didn’t know Akira that well at all. </p>
<p>“I don’t what?” asked Akira, watching him curiously. </p>
<p>“Nothing,” sighed Morgana. “I just thought... It doesn’t matter.”</p>
<p>Akira raised his eyebrows. “If you say so.” </p>
<p>He stared off into the distance for a moment, and Morgana was just about to bring up the subject of the Leblanc when Akira suddenly said, “How long will I be here, do you think?” </p>
<p>Of course he chose the most difficult question. “I don’t know. You got hit by a status effect, and they usually stop once we leave the Metaverse. But obviously that didn’t work.” </p>
<p>“Status effect?” mumbled Akira. He shook his head. “Am I gone from back there? Back in the present, I mean?” </p>
<p>“I don’t think so,” said Morgana. “Though I’m not sure. It’s weird though, it’s not like you just got de-aged—you brought all your stuff with you, after all. Maybe the two of you have swapped places?”</p>
<p>Akira’s eyes grew wide and panicked, and Morgana quickly scrambled to go on, “We have no way of knowing though! It probably just affects the you in the present.” </p>
<p>Or at least he certainly hoped it did. The younger Akira remembering all this could have disastrous consequences. </p>
<p>“I see,” said Akira, growing quiet and serious again. </p>
<p>“We should really head back, you know,” said Morgana, looking up at the sky. Even in the red-tinged haze of the Metaverse, time was stretching on, and it was now at least mid-afternoon. “We don’t want to get stuck out here.”</p>
<p>“Back where?” asked Akira, looking out towards the sea, visible over the tops of the houses. “There’s nothing for me here.” </p>
<p>“Don’t be ridiculous!” cried Morgana, a little stressed by Akira’s attitude. “You live in a café! All your friends will be wondering where you are! I told them I’d try and find you.”</p>
<p>“My friends...” Akira said quietly, turning his gaze to the floor. “Those are the other Phantom Thieves, right?” </p>
<p>“Right.”</p>
<p>Akira looked up again, and though he was facing Morgana’s direction, Morgana got the feeling Akira wasn’t seeing him. </p>
<p>“But they <em>aren’t</em> my friends,” he said, barely loud enough for Morgana to hear. “They’re his... And I’m different to him.” </p>
<p>“Not by a lot,” said Morgana, tentatively.</p>
<p>“No,” Akira shook his head, “that isn’t true. I can tell from the way you were talking to me. I am different to him. It would be silly if I wasn’t, he’s seven years older than me, after all.” </p>
<p>Morgana didn’t like Akira’s tone as he spoke about differences. It sounded like...</p>
<p>“But that doesn’t matter,” he said, trying coax Akira into listening. “They’re still your friends, and the Boss will be wondering where you are—you should go back, they’ll keep you safe!” </p>
<p>“The Boss?” asked Akira. </p>
<p>“Sojiro! He’s your probation officer. You live with him.”</p>
<p>“Does he know about all this Phantom Thief stuff?” </p>
<p>Shit. “Well I mean...kind of...”</p>
<p>“Would he understand what was happening if I walked in like this?” </p>
<p>Morgana scowled at him. Apparently Akira had always been good at arguing. “Well, no, but—”</p>
<p>“Then I’m not going back. It’d be too much hassle.” He frowned again. “I bet I have school too. Oh well. They can just say I’m skipping.” </p>
<p>“No, no, no!” cried Morgana. “You can’t just make decisions like that!”</p>
<p>Akira ignored him, got out his wallet and started counting the money inside. </p>
<p>“Hey! Don’t ignore me!”</p>
<p>Akira turned to him with a tired look on his face. “What, do you have a better idea?”</p>
<p>“What’s wrong with just going home? Surely it’ll be harder to live out here with no support...”</p>
<p>“I can do it,” said Akira, in a dull monotone. “Besides,” a dark look came over his face, “it won’t be in Tokyo.”</p>
<p>Morgana felt he must have underestimated what a bad first impression the city must have made on the younger Akira. It made sense—he was small and alone, and the city was unfamiliar, but still—there was only one hotel here. And even if Akira had stolen money from his parents, he couldn’t rent a room indefinitely. Plus the others needed to know what was going on—if they couldn’t figure out a way to turn Akira back soon...</p>
<p>But Akira wasn’t paying attention to him. He’d instead gotten up and begun to look around.</p>
<p>“Wait!” said Morgana, but the next second Akira walked backwards, returning to the normal world once again.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Goro...was perplexed. Having Akira suddenly turn into a child was one thing—it was annoying, sure, but probably only temporary. Having his child self subsequently vanish off the face of the earth was quite another. </p>
<p>“Wait,” said Ryuji, leaning against the fountain, “so none of us found <em>anything?”</em></p>
<p>“Nope,” sighed Futaba, irritably. “And now Mona’s gone too.” </p>
<p>“I hope he’s alright,” said Haru, quietly, “it’s dangerous for stray cats out on the streets.”</p>
<p>“It’s dangerous for lost children too,” said Makoto, frowning deeply. </p>
<p>On that point at least, Goro could agree with her. Tokyo wasn’t exactly a cesspit of crime, especially not the area they were currently in, but if Akira really had gotten on a train then he could be in serious danger. And given none of them had been able to find any trace of him, that seemed like the most likely option. </p>
<p>Part of him wondered why he was so worried—it could only be to his advantage if Akira went missing and never returned—it was possible the Phantom Thieves would fall apart all by themselves without any input from him at all. But perhaps it just hit too close to home, thinking about Akira as a small child, alone on the streets of Tokyo... And besides, they didn’t know how long the status effect would last. He could easily turn back into a teenager, and then where would Goro be? Stuck with a failed plan and a serious threat on his hands was where. So it was best to find him quickly. For Goro’s benefit alone, of course. </p>
<p>“Maybe we <em>are</em> best off heading back to the Leblanc,” said Ryuji. “Who knows, maybe Mona dragged him back there or something.” </p>
<p>“I agree,” said Yusuke, “and besides, if he and Morgana do not return by the end of the day, we’ll need to explain to the Boss what’s happened.”</p>
<p>“Are we sure that’s a good idea?” asked Futaba, her eyes widening. “I mean, Sojiro kind of knows what we do, but I’m not sure we can explain Akira turning into a little kid then vanishing to him.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” muttered Ryuji, “and he’d totally kick our asses for losing him.” </p>
<p>“He needs to know that Akira’s gone though,” said Ann, quietly. “It isn’t fair to leave him worrying.” </p>
<p>“Telling him’s only gonna worry him more!” Ryuji insisted.</p>
<p>“We should probably head over there first,” said Goro, deciding to put an end to the madness. “We can decide on exactly what our excuse will once we’re there, after all.” </p>
<p>Ryuji rolled his eyes in exasperation. Goro repressed the urge to punch him. “Alright, he obviously ain’t here anymore.” </p>
<p>“To the Leblanc then,” said Makoto.</p>
<p>They went in silence the rest of the way to the station.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Aren’t you going to explain what you’re thinking?” asked Morgana, still sticking to him resolutely. </p>
<p>“No,” said Akira, picking up another sturdy branch. </p>
<p>“Ugh!” </p>
<p>The addition of a talking cat to his life wasn’t an entirely unwelcome one, but Akira had deemed it best they only talk where other people couldn’t see. No one was likely to bother him about it—he was young enough to still pull off talking to animals like they were human, but he didn’t want anyone to think he was totally crazy while he was relying on the kindness of the people living here. </p>
<p>He thought he just about had enough branches now. And he was pretty sure he’d seen a cave down by the cliffs...</p>
<p>“Where are we going now?” whined Morgana, as Akira set off again. </p>
<p>“Down towards the sea,” said Akira, peering at it through the trees. </p>
<p>Ah, the sea. Possibly the best part about living in a fishing town. Maybe the <em>only</em> good part, now he thought about it. Just seeing it took some of his discomfort away. He was safe as long as he was near the sea—that was how he’d always felt, anyway. </p>
<p>Except in lightning storms. Lightning storms ruined everything. </p>
<p>As he descended from the forested hills to the rocky bay, he saw he’d been right about the cave. Well—more of an overhang, really, but sheltered, and out of sight of the village. The sea was still quite a ways below, even now, at high tide, and as Akira stepped inside he saw the ground was dry. Perfect. He’d be shielded from most of the elements here. </p>
<p>He dumped his makeshift pile of supplies onto the ground, then got started arranging the sticks. It was almost evening, after all. </p>
<p>“Are you making...” Morgana began, but trailed off as it became clear what Akira was making.</p>
<p>It had taken a bit of effort (and more of his funds, though thankfully not a massive amount), but he had everything he needed. After about half an hour of work, correcting the frame and making sure the tarpaulin would stay in place, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. </p>
<p>It wasn’t the best tent in the world, he could admit that, but it’d keep him dry, and that was the main thing. And besides, if he was right...</p>
<p>“<em>That’s</em> what you’re going to sleep in?” asked Morgana, as Akira took out his phone.  “It’s tiny! And it’s November! You’ll freeze to death—”</p>
<p>He was cut off as Akira tapped on the strange app, and the world shifted and contorted into the Metaverse. And sure enough...</p>
<p>“What have you done?” asked Morgana, staring at the now much better tent. </p>
<p>It had thick, insulated walls, and inside was a proper bed, not the thin wollen blanket he’d bought from the store. </p>
<p>“You said this place works off thoughts, right?” said Akira, glancing down at him. “So I thought—if I made this, and thought it was great, it had to be even better in here, right?”</p>
<p>Morgana seemed at a loss for words, still staring open-mouthed at the tent. </p>
<p>“Come on,” said Akira, giving him a light shove, “let’s sit inside, it’s cold out here.”</p>
<p>Morgana nodded mutely and followed him in, sitting down on the floor in astonishment as Akira zipped up the tent behind them. </p>
<p>“This isn’t supposed to happen,” he managed, after about two straight minutes of silence.</p>
<p>“It isn’t?” asked Akira. </p>
<p>“Well—it could, I guess—but it’s usually only people with Palaces who can distort the Metaverse like this.”</p>
<p>“Guess I just have very strong thoughts,” said Akira, laughing nervously. He didn’t want Morgana to think he was evil, after all. </p>
<p>“This is too much,” sighed Morgana, lying flat on the ground.</p>
<p>“It’ll be safer to sleep in here, though, right?” asked Akira. “I mean, there’s no wildlife in this world or anything.”</p>
<p>Morgana sighed again, then pushed himself upright. “No. There are Shadows, but I think most of them are in Tokyo. And they probably wouldn’t bother you even if they found you, because you’re so young.”</p>
<p>“Shadows?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>“Like that monster you saw when you came in,” said Morgana, with a yawn. </p>
<p>“Right. And what’s me being young got to do with it?”</p>
<p>“Well,” said Morgana, and he looked a little embarrassed, “it’s just that kids are less distorted than adults, typically. That’s all.”</p>
<p>“Hmm, that’s weird.”</p>
<p>“Do you think so?” asked Morgana.</p>
<p>He could refuse to answer, keep his thoughts a secret but...Morgana seemed nice enough. And it wasn’t like there was anyone else he could discuss this with. </p>
<p>“I just don’t think kids are any more moral than adults, that’s all. They don’t commit so many crimes, sure, but not because they don’t want to, just because they <em>can’t.</em>” </p>
<p>Morgana stared at him. “Do you really think that?” </p>
<p>“Of course,” said Akira. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d wanted to lash out at the stupid adults in his village, always making up different rules for themselves to everyone else and expecting everyone to just go along with it. “Kids are small and weak. Most of them couldn’t hurt someone even if they wanted to—so they don’t. And people don’t take it seriously when kids hurt other kids—it’s like there are no rules for us, so we can’t really break them.” </p>
<p>“Hmm,” said Morgana, “you might have a point. I’ve met some really nasty children—they tried to throw rocks at me and everything.” </p>
<p>“That’s horrible,” said Akira, scowling, “but if they’d killed you nothing would have happened because ‘they don’t understand’, right? Maybe that’s why...” </p>
<p>“It’s true that most Palace rulers are aware that their desires are distorted,” said Morgana, “otherwise they wouldn’t feel so guilty when they get taken away. So I suppose that must be part of it—to have a Palace you have to be aware your actions are wrong on some level. Huh. I don’t think I’ve thought about that before.”</p>
<p>“It would make sense that it’s only adults then,” said Akira. After all, it was one thing to do something because you don’t know it’s wrong, and quite another just to do it deliberately because you can get away with it. </p>
<p>Anger began to bubble up in his chest again at the thought. What was it about adulthood that so twisted people’s psyche? That made them believe they could do things that no decent person would? Like that man who’d gotten him arrested—what gave him the right—what gave him the audacity to believe he could make up his own rules about right and wrong? It was vile. And he would pay. </p>
<p>Morgana’s stomach suddenly made a loud growling sound. “Hey, could we get something to eat?” he asked, abashedly. “I mean, if we aren’t going back to Tokyo we may as well get dinner, right?”</p>
<p>“Sure,” said Akira, swallowing hard, trying to let the anger burn itself out. “I think I have the money for that.”</p>
<p>“Make sure to buy me some tuna!” </p>
<p>Akira laughed. “Hope you like the canned stuff.” </p>
<p>“Hey!”</p>
<hr/>
<p>It was a sombre mood in the Leblanc. </p>
<p>“We can’t continue the Palace infiltration without Akira,” said Makoto, staring down at the table. “It’s too risky.”</p>
<p>“But we don’t <em>need</em> Akira to do it,” said Ryuji, “it’s not like it’ll be impossible without him.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t <em>say</em> it was impossible, I said it was too risky!” snapped Makoto. The table fell silent. She heaved a great sigh. “He’s our best strategist, and we all know it. What if there are more of those monsters that can de-age people? What if half of us end up as children?” She shook her head. “We have to wait until we can find him again. It’s the only way.” </p>
<p>“But...what are we gonna do until then?” asked Ann, playing with her hair in a depressed sort of manner. “He can’t go to school looking like that, even if we do find him.”</p>
<p>Makoto frowned and clicked her tongue. “I don’t like lying, but I think in this case we’d have no choice. We’d have to tell them he’d gone home to visit family.”</p>
<p>“Would the school accept that?” asked Haru.</p>
<p>“They would from me.”</p>
<p>Silence again. If this dysfunctional oddness proved anything, it was that Goro had been right about the Thieve’s reliance on Akira as their leader and anchor. Without him they fell apart, both as friends and as a group. It was comforting in a way, knowing his plan would work. In another it was slightly eerie knowing he was looking at a table of people who would all be dead by this time next year. He didn’t usually have such thoughts about his victims, but then, he didn’t usually know his victims personally. It was all for the greater good. All to take down Shido. </p>
<p>And if it took down Shido, then it was worth it. </p>
<p>“It is...a shame we’ve no way of knowing where he is,” said Yusuke.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” sighed Futaba. “Then at least we’d know he was alright.”</p>
<p>The awkward silence was broken again as Ann’s phone began to ring. </p>
<p>“Sorry!” she cried, quickly fumbling to get it. “It’s probably my agency, hang on.”</p>
<p>She stood up and backed a little away from the table to get the call. Goro was just planning to say they should all head home for the day when he was interrupted by a piercing shriek.</p>
<p>“MONA?” yelled Ann, staring at her phone in shock.</p>
<p>“Morgana is...calling the phone?” asked Yusuke, staring at her. </p>
<p>“Yeah, um, I’ll put him on speaker.” She fumbled and pressed a button, then—</p>
<p>“Not so loud!” came Morgana’s voice, loud and clear over the phone. </p>
<p>Ann placed it in the centre of the table so they could all speak into it. </p>
<p>“Morgana?” asked Makoto, leaning over it. “How did you call us? Where are you?”</p>
<p>“In some village on the outskirts of Tokyo,” said Morgana, his tone clearly annoyed.  “We need to be quick, I stole Akira’s phone, and it won’t be long until he comes back and finds out.”</p>
<p>“How did you even manage to work a phone with your paws?” asked Ryuji, incredulously.</p>
<p>“Not the time, Ryuji,” said Makoto, warningly. “Akira’s there with you? How did you get there?”</p>
<p>“He bought a train ticket,” said Morgana, now sounding quite embarrassed. “He couldn’t understand me so I couldn’t stop him, and I couldn’t come and find one of you guys because I’d lose him again, so I followed him out here.”</p>
<p>“Well he’s gonna be pretty shocked when he finds out a stray cat stole his phone and called it, isn’t he?” said Futaba, unable to repress a grin. </p>
<p>“He knows I can talk now!” snapped Morgana. “He still has the MetaNav somehow.”</p>
<p>The MetaNav? Was he still chosen then? But did that mean...?</p>
<p>“He went into the Metaverse?” Goro said aloud, before he could stop himself.</p>
<p>“...Yeah,” said Morgana, now sounding notably more hesitant. Why? Did he still not trust him? But that cat had always been a suspicious one...</p>
<p>“Then why hasn’t he come back?” cried Ann. “Didn’t you explain everything?”</p>
<p>“Of course I did!” hissed Morgana, and Goro could practically see his tail whipping back and forth in frustration. “He doesn’t want to come back. I think he’s frightened of the city—that’s why he left in the first place.” </p>
<p>Personally Goro couldn’t imagine Akira being afraid of anything, whether he was a child or not. But he supposed he had to give some leeway to a ten year old. It was unlikely he had any other reason to stay away, after all. Wasn’t it?</p>
<p>“If he grew up in the countryside it would make sense that Tokyo was a shock to him,” said Yusuke, nodding. </p>
<p>“I dunno why he’s so adamant about it,” sighed Morgana. “It’s not like he was like this before.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but things like that are way scarier when you’re ten than when you’re sixteen,” pointed out Ryuji. “So what are we gonna do? The trains are gonna stop soon—are you two gonna be okay out there?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” said Morgana, with another loud sigh. “We’ve...managed to work something out.”</p>
<p>“Do you know what village you’re in, Morgana?” asked Makoto. “We can go there tomorrow if Akira’s still reluctant.”</p>
<p>“I think it’s called...Mota?” said Morgana. “Anyway, I’ve got to go, he’s coming back.”</p>
<p>“See you soon, Morgana!” called Ann, before the phone cut off.</p>
<p>“Wow, Kid Akira really has some hustle, getting out of Tokyo that fast,” said Futaba. “Guess we’re lucky Mona found him before he skedaddled.” </p>
<p>Futaba had a point, though he hated to admit it. It <em>was</em> unusual for a child that age to have that much wherewithal. And wasn't it typical that even as a ten-year-old Akira was being annoyingly competent in all the worst ways?</p>
<p>“Yes,” sighed Makoto, “but it’ll be a problem if we can’t persuade him to come back.”</p>
<p>“True,” said Yusuke, “Akira can be very stubborn when he wants to be. I hesitate to consider what he was like as a small child.” </p>
<p>Given what they already knew of him, Goro was willing to bet a fair amount of money that what Akira was like as a child could be encapsulated in one simple word: trouble. </p>
<p>“Well, we’ll have to wait and see until tomorrow,” he said, pointedly checking his phone. “It’s far too late to try and go now.”</p>
<p>“I hate to say it, but Akechi has a point,” said Ann, yawning, “it’s been a long day. We should all get some rest.”</p>
<p>“What are we gonna tell Sojiro?” asked Futaba, as they all began to get up. “It’s not like Akira’ll be coming home tonight.”</p>
<p>“He won’t be gone long enough for his home to work as an excuse though,” muttered Makoto.</p>
<p>“We could say he’s staying at Ryuji’s house,” suggested Goro, knowing that would probably piss him off.</p>
<p>“Hey, what?” said Ryuji. “There’s no way—”</p>
<p>“That’s a good idea Akechi-kun,” said Haru. “You and Akira are pretty good friends, right, Ryuji?”</p>
<p>“Well, yeah, but—”</p>
<p>“Then it’s decided,” said Goro, flashing his fakest smile. </p>
<p>Ryuji scowled at him. “Fine, whatever. I guess it’s not like he’s gonna check anyway.”</p>
<p>“What, Sojiro?” snorted Futaba. “No way, that’d be way too much effort.” </p>
<p>“Okay,” said Ann, “so tomorrow is plan Rescue Akira! Should we all meet up back here?” </p>
<p>“Tomorrow at ten,” said Makoto, making both Futaba and Ryuji groan. “I expect <em>all</em> of you to be here.”</p>
<p>“Alright, alright,” groaned Ryuji.</p>
<p>Well then. This should be interesting. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Morgana: you should meet your friends, they’ll take care of you!<br/>Child Akira: No.<br/>Morgana: ???<br/>Child Akira: I’m living in a tent in a cave.<br/>Morgana: <b>???</b><br/>Child Akira: I would literally rather die than have someone take care of me.<br/>Morgana: *calling the Thieves* pls help me I don’t know how to deal with this. </p>
<p>I'm taking some liberties with how the Metaverse works in this fic, it being a whole separate dimension rather than just Palaces and Mementos, but hey, at least Akira actually has someone he can talk to now! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Conflict</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akira woke early that morning. So early it was still dark outside as he peeked out of the tent. But even though it was dark, there was still an odd reddish tinge to the sky. </p>
<p>He stepped out of the tent, the cold wind off the sea immediately biting into him, making him shiver. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and rubbed his hands together as he walked to the edge of the outcropping of rock. The sea surged below, the loudest sound for miles. It seemed darker than usual. Stronger. </p>
<p>And as he looked out, across the ocean, towards the horizon, the sky still speckled with stars, he thought he saw...something. Shifting below the waves. It was light—it had to be for Akira to see it—and it was huge. But he wasn’t afraid. It felt, familiar...somehow. </p>
<p>“Are you up already?” </p>
<p>Akira jumped up, an undignified yelp escaping his mouth. </p>
<p>“Oops, sorry,” said Morgana, giving him an insufferable grin. “It’s unusual to see you up so early by yourself.” </p>
<p>How infuriating. It sounded like his teenage self got a lie in. It was a luxury he was rarely afforded between school and...the dreams. </p>
<p>He was surprised he hadn’t got one that night—he usually did when got all unsettled like this. He could still see it in his mind’s eye. The blue room. The train. Bars. A dull ache began throbbing in his temples. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to think about it. </p>
<p>“I thought I saw something,” he said, turning back to the sea. Whatever it was, it was gone now.</p>
<p>“Out there?” asked Morgana. He nodded. “I’m not surprised. People have all sorts of stories about the ocean and the things inside it.”</p>
<p>“So there could be a massive sea monster out there?” </p>
<p>“In this world, yeah.” </p>
<p>“Cool.” </p>
<p>He found himself wondering if he swam out far enough he might be able to meet the sea creature...but he’d probably get swept too far out by a rip tide and drown. The sea had a tendency to be like that. Friendly one moment, treacherous the next. But it was at least reassuring in its two-facedness. Akira always knew to be careful around the sea, and he’d never felt he had anything to fear from its depths. The rush of water against the rocks was peaceful enough, in its own way. </p>
<p>He became aware of something lurking on the edges of his vision. </p>
<p>He turned very slowly, not wanting to startle it. From behind a rock, a small creature looked at him with a thin, whisp-like face. He leaned in slowly to Morgana, and asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper, “What’s that?” </p>
<p>Morgana turned to where he was looking, and gave a little jump. But fortunately the spirit didn’t seem to notice. </p>
<p>“It’s a Shadow,” said Morgana, quietly. “It should be alright. They’re usually peaceful outside of Palaces.”</p>
<p>“What are they?” asked Akira, watching as it emerged from the rock, and began floating through the air, caught on the wind. </p>
<p>“I’m not sure,” said Morgana. “Something to do with humans. Thoughts? Hopes, maybe?”</p>
<p>“Lost souls?” wondered Akira, watching as a few more spirits emerged from their hiding places. </p>
<p>“Perhaps even that.”</p>
<p>They danced around them in the air, apparently unafraid of them, two strange, foreign beings in their world. </p>
<p>“This is a strange world,” said Akira. “But it seems peaceful. Has it always been here?” </p>
<p>“I don’t know,” said Morgana, giving a small yawn. “It’s been here as long as I remember.” </p>
<p>“How long is that?” </p>
<p>“Hmm. About two years, maybe.”</p>
<p>Huh. So he wasn’t that old either. </p>
<p>“It’s nice here,” said Akira, folding his legs under him. “It’s hard to imagine that casino now, with all those monsters.”</p>
<p>“It’s because of the Palaces,” said Morgana, and a dark expression passed over his face. “They distort everything, even the Shadows.” </p>
<p>“There are a lot of bad people out there,” said Akira, reaching out his fingers and letting one of the little whisps dance across it, “it’s hard to think this place hasn’t imploded yet.” </p>
<p>“Not everyone’s bad,” said Morgana, “but I’m afraid it’s been getting worse recently. So few people are willing to stand up and defend themselves against this society, against these horrible people. It’s like...there’s something that’s gone wrong with the universe somehow. Tilted it slightly out of balance.” </p>
<p>“Maybe it’s a god,” said Akira, watching as the whisp floated away again. </p>
<p>“A god?” </p>
<p>“Yeah.” The sea crashed and frothed against the stone, a deep portal to the depths of the earth. “They’re everywhere, so they say.”</p>
<p>“Would one god be powerful enough to do something like this?”</p>
<p>“Maybe,” said Akira. “If enough people believed in it.”</p>
<p>Morgana sighed and shook his head. “What kind of power would they have to do something like this?” </p>
<p>Akira knew the answer. Felt he had always known it somehow. Everyday he fought against it, pulling him relentlessly backwards like the tide, trying to drown him, consume him. </p>
<p>“Apathy.” </p>
<p>“Apathy?” asked Morgana. </p>
<p>“Yes. It’ll destroy us all. Eventually.” </p>
<p>He was sure he could see it now, at the edge of the horizon. A great white beast, stirring beneath the water. Watching them. Waiting. Waiting for him? What was the name? He had been so close to remembering...</p>
<p>“Akira?” </p>
<p>Morgana was looking up at him with wide blue eyes. “Are you alright?” </p>
<p>He turned back to the sea. There was nothing there. The moment was gone. </p>
<p>“I’m fine,” he said. </p>
<p>“You were talking about a god...”</p>
<p>“It must have been a dream.” And he’d seen it in his dream. A man. Or a thing? It was hard to tell. “Maybe I just need more sleep.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you do,” said Morgana.</p>
<p>“Wake me when it gets light, okay?” </p>
<p>“I will.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>There wasn’t a whole lot to do in the village of Mota. Which was fine, because there wasn’t a whole lot to do in Itoiyama either. And Akira knew what to do with his time when there was nothing else to do.</p>
<p>“You’re really just gonna sit here all day, huh,” said Morgana, flicking his ears back in disgust.</p>
<p>“That woman who lives in the fishmongers will give me money for these,” said Akira, patting his fishing box. “And we need money to eat, so stop complaining.”</p>
<p>“Can’t you just get a part-time job or something?” asked Morgana. “This is boring!”</p>
<p>“Around here?” asked Akira. “I doubt they have many part-time jobs up for grabs, especially for kids. Besides, I need to avoid people during school hours.”</p>
<p>“It’s Sunday.”</p>
<p>“Then it’s good practice, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Ugh!” grumbled Morgana.</p>
<p>Akira chuckled and reached out to scratch him behind the ears. Morgana seemed to be on-edge today, and he couldn’t quite work out why. </p>
<p>“We can head back up to the village to get lunch in ten minutes, okay?”</p>
<p>“Finally,” muttered Morgana. </p>
<p>The ten minutes came and went faster than Akira had expected, mainly because he spent most of them fighting with a particularly large fish. Once he’d gotten it safely in his fishing box, he gathered up all his equipment and stowed it away in their makeshift tent, before extracting his phone and wallet, and heading back up to the town, Morgana following closely on his heels. </p>
<p>Akira headed straight for the convenience store, deciding he might as well get some tuna to stop Morgana bothering him, but as soon as it rose into sight he stopped in his tracks. Because there was someone already by the convenience store. A lot of someones, actually. Someones he recognised.</p>
<p>The people from the Palace. The Phantom Thieves. They were here. How? </p>
<p>“Oh, they’re here!” Morgana said excitedly, but Akira did not share his excitement.</p>
<p>Morgana had said they were his friends but...Akira didn’t know them. And they were friends with a teenager, not a ten year old. They...wouldn’t want to deal with him. And even if they did, there were seven of them—and that was way too many people in Akira’s opinion. He was fine with a talking cat. But seven real, live human beings? No way. He wasn’t doing this. He needed to escape. But how? Morgana was already trotting over to them. He didn’t have much time.</p>
<p>His fingers closed over the phone in his pocket. His phone. Of course!</p>
<p>It was the work of a second to retrieve it from his pocket, click it on, and, already sprinting away from the group, he tapped the icon that would take him to the Metaverse.</p>
<p>Then he was gone.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Morgana had been nervous about their arrival all day, and Akira’s early morning episode of...whatever that had been, hadn’t helped. But now they were finally here, and he could stop worrying at last.</p>
<p>“Hey! Guys!” he called out, quickly running up to them.</p>
<p>“Morgana!” cried Lady Ann, beaming at him. “You’re okay! But...where’s Akira?”</p>
<p>“What do you mean where?” he asked, annoyed. “He’s right—”</p>
<p>But as Morgana turned around he saw that Akira was not, as he’d been about to say, right behind him. In fact, he didn’t seem to be anywhere.</p>
<p>“Are you kidding me?” he half-exploded. He was beginning to believe that Child Akira might have supernatural powers all his own, because he had an uncanny penchant for disappearing when it was most inconvenient. “He was right there!” he spluttered. “He can’t have gone far. Wait a minute.”</p>
<p>He bounded back over to where he’d left Akira, but there was no trace of him anywhere. Why did he have to be so awkward? And more importantly, where had he gone?</p>
<hr/>
<p>Akira was not hiding. That would imply he was afraid, and he definitely wasn’t afraid. He was just being cautious. So he was sneaking. That was what he was doing. Obviously.</p>
<p>Sneaking under a bush on the edge of town, hoping desperately no one would find him. He was still in the Metaverse, so it was unlikely, but both Morgana and the Phantom Thieves seemed to know how the Metaverse worked, so he still didn’t like his chances. </p>
<p>Why had they had to show up so suddenly like that? And altogether too! Did they not have lives? Plans that didn’t involve him? Why couldn’t just one of them have come? Actually, why couldn’t they all have just left well enough alone? He was fine. He was <em>always</em> fine. </p>
<p>He didn’t need anyone checking up on him and making sure he was okay—or worse still—kidnapping him and taking him back into that wretched city again. What was it about older people that made them so damned presumptuous? Always trying to interfere in his business? He didn’t need their help. He didn’t need anyone’s help. He was going to make it just fine out here on his own, just like he had back in Itoiyama. He was an expert in staying out of people’s way and staying out of trouble. Until now, apparently. </p>
<p>Why couldn’t they all just <em>forget about him?</em></p>
<p>Something coiled in his chest—something large, and bright, and burning—something...familiar. </p>
<p>He tried to reach for it, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. Then it was gone. He opened his eyes.</p>
<p>Several Shadows had gathered around him, all peering at him curiously. </p>
<p>“What do you want?” he muttered trying to shoo them away. “Go on, get out of here. They might see you.”</p>
<p>But they would not leave. Before it had been curious, even slightly endearing. Now it was just annoying.</p>
<p>He sighed and rose from his bush. No point hiding here if a million Shadows were going to reveal him anyway. He wandered along the street, feeling very much as though he’d been cursed in some way. One of the gods here definitely had it in for him. Maybe the one he’d been speaking about before...</p>
<p>Perhaps he should just throw himself off a cliff and get it over with. It’d be considerably easier than having to sneak around like this as long as he was stuck in the future. He rubbed his face with his hands. It was awfully tiring in the Metaverse. Or maybe he was just tired. It was one or the other. </p>
<p>He could go back to his tent but...no Morgana knew about it, and had probably already told the Phantom Thieves about it. This was why other people were just too much damned hassle. They found out too much about you, then never left you alone. It was too much for Akira to be dealing with. Staying alive was hard enough as it was without constant harassment.</p>
<p>Something was clearly wrong with them anyway, if they were friends with him. No one wanted to be his friend back in Itoiyama. No one ever took any interest in him, and he took very little interest in them: that was the way of the world, the pattern of his life, and he had no reason to expect any of that ever ought to change. </p>
<p>But apparently it had.</p>
<p>Apparently his teenage self had...friends. Nosy, interfering friends that chased him down to remote villages. Why? Why couldn’t he have just kept his head down like Akira had strived to all his life? </p>
<p>He knew why he’d been sent to Tokyo—and it wasn’t like he resented his older self for helping someone in need, that was fine, but—friends? And that many? What had he been thinking? Had he...changed? </p>
<p>The thought provoked an uncomfortable nausea in the pit of his stomach. Well. He didn’t approve either way. And he owed nothing to these ‘friends’ he supposedly had. </p>
<p>He was fine on his own. </p>
<p>He had to be.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Goro had been right about the conclusion he’d come to about Akira’s child self yesterday. The little brat was an incredible amount of trouble. </p>
<p>An hour’s train ride and another hour of searching the village of Mota revealed exactly nothing about where he had gone, and Goro was beginning to see red. If they ever <em>did</em> find that wretched boy, it was going to be a struggle not to wring his neck. Fortunately it seemed he was not alone in this thought, for once. </p>
<p>“How the hell does he keep vanishing on us like that?” cried Ryuji, once they all confirmed they’d found nothing. </p>
<p>“It is odd,” said Yusuke. “Perhaps his foray into the Metaverse has granted him some unknown powers?” </p>
<p>Shit. That was it!</p>
<p>“I know where he is!” he cried, pulling out his phone in a flash. </p>
<p>“Where is he?” asked Ann, frowning at him. </p>
<p>“Where else could a small child disappear to for hours at a time?” he asked, pulling up the MetaNav and showing it to them.</p>
<p>“What?” cried Morgana.</p>
<p>“That would make sense,” said Makoto, her eyes wide. “Why we haven’t been able to find him all this time...”</p>
<p>“Well come on, dude, open it up!” cried Ryuji.</p>
<p>“Wait, wait, wait,” said Futaba, walking into the middle of the group and holding up her hands, “don’t you think we should come up with a plan? Akira’s obviously trying to avoid us. How are we gonna make sure he doesn’t just run away again?” </p>
<p>“Oh,” said Ryuji, a little abashedly. “Right.”</p>
<p>“But <em>why</em> do you think Akira is trying to avoid us?” asked Haru. “Mona said he told him we were his friends.”</p>
<p>It was a decent question, and one that Morgana looked very reluctant to answer.</p>
<p>“I’m not sure,” he said, his tail twitching agitatedly. “It seems like...he separates out who he is as a child and a teenager. When I said you were his friends, he insisted that you didn’t know <em>him</em>, you only knew the older Akira, so you weren’t <em>his</em> friends.” </p>
<p>Well that was...odd. </p>
<p>“What a strange thing to think,” murmured Makoto. “But surely he knows we’re concerned about him?” She looked down at Morgana suddenly. “How have you two even been living out here by yourselves? It must have been difficult. Doesn’t he understand we can help him?” </p>
<p>Morgana looked even more reluctant to answer. “It’s...complicated.”</p>
<p>“Complicated how?” asked Ann. “Didn’t you guys just get a hotel room or something?”</p>
<p>“No,” said Morgana. “I don’t think he even thought about that. He’s...very independent, I guess. A hotel would cost too much money for him.”</p>
<p>“Man, how’s a kid that age even know about budgeting?” asked Ryuji. </p>
<p>Goro had been wondering the same thing. He’d had a fair amount of independence as a child...if independence was the right word for the foster care system, but even he hadn’t had such an intense focus on money. </p>
<p>“Um, more importantly, where’d you sleep if not in a hotel?” asked Futaba. “Outside? In a tree?” </p>
<p>Morgana seemed to be getting very agitated. “That’s not important!”</p>
<p>“Oh my god, you really did, didn’t you?” </p>
<p>“It was <em>his</em> idea!” Morgana exploded. </p>
<p>“Bruh...” said Ryuji, in bewilderment. “And you didn’t think to talk some sense into him?” </p>
<p>“<em>YOU</em> TRY TALKING SENSE INTO HIM!” Morgana screeched. “HE WILL <em>NOT</em> BE REASONED WITH!”</p>
<p>It seemed this rant had been building for a while.</p>
<p>“He<em> refuses</em> to take my advice—“ Morgana continued, bristling, “it’s like he doesn’t even hear me! It’s infuriating!” </p>
<p>“Sounds like Akira,” sighed Ann. </p>
<p>“But surely he’s capable of reason,” said Yusuke. “Once he realises we’re only attempting to help him—”</p>
<p>“He’s <em>not!”</em> insisted Morgana. “I told him all about the café, how Boss gives him a place to stay—it didn’t matter to him! It’s like he’d do anything to stay out of Tokyo.” </p>
<p>Hmm. If Akira’s problem really was with Tokyo it would be difficult for any of them to look after him in conjunction with school and...other commitments. Goro mentally reprimanded himself again for caring so much—none of this mattered. The priority was simply getting the normal Akira back. Then everything could continue as planned, and he could stop worrying. </p>
<p>“We need to find him before we do anything,” he said aloud. “We’re still not sure exactly where he is in the Metaverse.”</p>
<p>“Akechi’s right,” sighed Makoto. “It could be dangerous in there for him. We need to help.”</p>
<p>“Would we be doing the same as before?” asked Haru. “Going in, then splitting up and looking for him?” </p>
<p>“It might be best to move as a group in the Metaverse,” said Yusuke. “We don’t know what it’s like outside Tokyo, after all.”</p>
<p>“It’s a lot more peaceful than in Tokyo,” sighed Morgana. “But it might be best to stick together to begin with.” </p>
<p>“Alright then, is everyone ready?” asked Makoto, looking around at the group. </p>
<p>“Pretty much,” said Ryuji. </p>
<p>“Akechi,” she said, nodding at him.</p>
<p>He pressed the app. </p>
<p>The world warped and shifted, and sure enough, they were in the Metaverse. They were all in their usual outfits, and he reached up compulsively to check he had the right mask—yes. Good. </p>
<p>“Okay,” said Morgana, now his mascot-self again. “Where should we go from here?”</p>
<p>“Is there anywhere he’s likely to be?” asked Makoto. </p>
<p>“Hmm, I can think of one place...” mumbled Morgana, “but he’s probably too smart to go back there...” </p>
<p>“Let’s just look around for a bit then,” said Haru. </p>
<p>They set out, wandering the Metaverse. </p>
<p>Goro didn’t spend much time there when he didn’t have to. The entire place made him feel hazy and not quite himself, even if it was useful when he had to hide away from the rest of Tokyo for a while. Having to carry out so many assassinations inside it had kind of tainted the place to him. </p>
<p>They must have been walking for about ten minutes when Goro finally saw it. Sitting on a bench towards the edge of the village was a small boy with scruffy dark hair. He appeared to be...feeding bread to a Shadow? What? </p>
<p>It didn’t take long for him to notice them either. Especially not when Ryuji shouted, “Hey! I think that’s him!”</p>
<p>Akira’s head snapped up like he’d heard a gunshot. He stared at them with wide, dark eyes, then leapt up from where he’d been sitting on the bench. </p>
<p>“Wait, no, don’t run!” called out Futaba, but Morgana had been right about Akira not being a listener. He was off in a flash. </p>
<p>“We can’t lose him again!” yelled Makoto, as they all set off in pursuit of him. </p>
<p>Goro had plenty of practice running Shadows down in Mementos. But this...still didn’t feel quite right. Shido was a bastard, but he never sent him after kids. And running down a terrified ten year old certainly didn’t make him feel any better about it. </p>
<p>Akira was a good runner though. He managed to stay well ahead of them for a good five minutes, and he almost lost them several times as he dodged down the streets. But they had the advantage now. And he seemed to realise it. </p>
<p>Just as they were finally beginning to gain on him, he whirled around to face them, stopping them all abruptly in their tracks. </p>
<p>And he no longer looked frightened either. </p>
<p>Like a cornered animal, there was now a desperate fury in his gaze as he stared them all down. </p>
<p>“What. Do you want. From me?” he spat, still panting after running so hard. </p>
<p>“Listen, kid, we’re just trying to help you out, okay?” said Ryuji, trying and failing to be calming. </p>
<p>“I don’t <em>want</em> your help!” hissed Akira. </p>
<p>He was tense, frozen in place, coiled like he was about to spring. He couldn’t take much more pushing, that much was obvious. They needed to be careful. </p>
<p>“But Akira,” said Makoto, similarly trying to be calming and being much more successful than Ryuji, “don’t you think it would be easier to come with us?”</p>
<p>“No, I do <em>not.</em>” </p>
<p>Goro could swear he saw a flash of yellow in Akira’s eyes that time. And all at once the danger of what they were doing hit him like a lightning bolt. They were cornering him—threatening him—albeit, unintentionally. If he got angry enough, if he was truly unwilling to back down, then—</p>
<p>“Well too bad!” cried Futaba. “You can’t just live out here sleeping in trees.”</p>
<p>“I can,” Akira seethed. “How are you going to stop me?” </p>
<p>“Akira, come on,” pleaded Ann. “Just come with us. We don’t want to force you.”</p>
<p>“<em>Force</em> me?” </p>
<p>That time he <em>definitely</em> saw yellow. Something seemed to be crackling in the air around Akira, a dark cloud of negative emotion emanating from him. This was too much—if they actually caused him to snap—</p>
<p>“Akira—” Yusuke began, but Goro didn’t let him finish.</p>
<p>“Stop. Right now,” he hissed at the others. </p>
<p>They all turned to him in shock. </p>
<p>“Stop?” asked Ryuji. Goro could see from the corner of his eye that Akira was planning to sprint while they were all distracted. “No, we have to—”</p>
<p>“We can’t,” said Goro. “Didn’t you see his eyes?”</p>
<p>“His eyes?” asked Haru.</p>
<p>“Hey—he’s getting away!” cried Futaba. And sure enough, Akira was already sprinting away from them again. </p>
<p>“Don’t go after him!” cried Goro, before any of them could move to pursue him.</p>
<p>They all paused in place.</p>
<p>“Akechi, explain your thinking,” said Makoto, glaring at him. “Now.”</p>
<p>“You idiots,” he spat, unable to contain his disgust, even through his disguise. “Couldn’t you see that if we kept pressuring him he was going to manifest a Persona?” </p>
<p>They all stared at him, open-mouthed. </p>
<p>“<em>What?</em>” cried Ann. </p>
<p>“No, he’s right,” said Haru, quietly. “I saw it too. His eyes were flashing yellow.”</p>
<p>“But how’s that even possible?” asked Ryuji. “He’s only ten!” </p>
<p>“There’s no <em>age limit</em> to a Persona,” said Goro, aware he was getting a bit too angry but unable to stop himself. “The only requirement is that you have a powerful desire to rebel against something or someone. In Akira’s case that was obviously us.” </p>
<p>“But we were only trying to help!” spluttered Ryuji.</p>
<p>“Do you think that mattered to <em>him?”</em> spat Goro. “He was obviously threatened by the idea of going back to Tokyo.” </p>
<p>“But we can’t just leave him out here,” mumbled Futaba, fiddling with her hair. </p>
<p>“I don’t think Akechi’s saying we should,” said Makoto, “just that we were going about it the wrong way. We clearly frightened Akira.” </p>
<p>“I’m afraid he must have a very negative perception of us by now,” said Yusuke, contemplatively.</p>
<p>And just as well too. Idiots, all of them. Had Goro been in Akira’s place he’d have ripped their faces off by now for continuing to go after him. Still. At least they hadn’t actually forced him to manifest a Persona. With the one he already possessed at his normal age, that could only go poorly. </p>
<p>“Um, guys,” said Ann, suddenly piping up from the edge of the group. “Where’s Morgana?” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Goro: Child Akira is a brat and I hate him.<br/>Child Akira: *gets so pissed off by the mortifying ordeal of being known that he nearly manifests a Persona*<br/>Goro: Wait no</p>
<p>Ah, we're really escalating in this chapter! Here's where all those fun neuroses come out to play that teenage Akira's already mostly dealt with. For why Kid Akira gets so close to manifesting a Persona: it's a bit of what Goro speculates, and a bit of him technically already having one, just being de-aged out of it, so Arsene's waaay more awake here than he actually was when Akira was ten. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Discovery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t <em>fair!</em></p>
<p>None of this was fair. It wasn’t like he’d <em>wanted</em> to be sent twisting and turning through time, ending up in this miserable place in the present. It wasn’t like he’d wanted to end up alone, in Tokyo, to panic and be forced to flee to safer pastures. It wasn’t like he’d wanted to worry his teenage self’s so-called ‘friends’. But he had, and he did, and now he was sitting on the edge of a cliff and crying like a baby.</p>
<p>It was all so <em>stupid!</em> He didn’t cry! He never cried! He hadn’t cried since he was five years old, when it had finally gotten through his stupid little skull that no one cared if he cried, or screamed, or did anything except go to school and get through the day in a socially acceptable manner. He could cry to his heart’s content, and the only response he’d get from the adults around him was looks of mild disapproval, and the children would simply awkwardly ignore him. Crying had never gotten him anywhere. </p>
<p>So why couldn’t he stop?</p>
<p>His entire body was shaking, shuddering as more and more tears poured from his eyes. He wiped them away but they just kept coming, so now he’d given up and buried his face in his knees, letting the tears soak into his rough, too-big jeans. </p>
<p>Everything was ruined. They’d found him before and now it was only a matter of time until they’d find him again. And then they’d drag him back to Tokyo, regardless of what he thought of it. Stick him above some café, where a man who thought he was a criminal would keep a relentless eye on him—probably not even let him out, because he’d run away before. </p>
<p>And then he’d be stuck.</p>
<p>He wouldn’t be able to fish, or swim—to step into the sea in the freezing cold of November and finally feel alive again. To feel the wind battering him as it blew off the sea and through the streets. To clamber up to his rooftop at night and watch the stars. </p>
<p>They were small things, true, but they were all that made his life worth living. And they’d all be gone in that city. And he’d be surrounded by the noise and crush of people, unable to find quiet and space again...</p>
<p>Why did they have to come here? He was fine on his own—it was how he’d lived his entire life until now. </p>
<p>And he wasn’t a criminal, consigned to Tokyo for his punishment, <em>resigned</em> to living there with all the noise and the light, unable to go back home. And he wasn’t a teenager—all those things his teenage self did: school, work, heart-stealing, apparently—he couldn’t do those—people would work out what had happened. So he had to remain hidden, a secret. Why couldn’t he do it out here, where it all felt so much safer, so much less wrong? </p>
<p>A new wave of tears overtook him.</p>
<p>Pathetic, that was what he was. Why didn’t he just toss himself off this cliff and end it? </p>
<p>Well. The fall wasn’t nearly long enough, for one thing. And he didn’t know if there were rocks underneath. And even if there were rocks they’d only break his legs from this height, so he’d get stuck there and starve, or dehydrate until he died. And that was a pretty horrible prospect, even to him. So cliff-jumping was out. </p>
<p>Why was all of this so hard?</p>
<p>Why couldn’t they all just forget about him? </p>
<p>Something moved in the corner of his vision. He whipped around—the cat was watching him. Typical. They’d already found him. It was too late. </p>
<p>“Go away,” he spat regardless. Morgana was only tiny. It wasn’t like he could force him to go anywhere. </p>
<p>Morgana crept closer. </p>
<p>“Have you gone deaf you stupid cat?” hissed Akira, and Morgana pressed his ears back close to his skull, scowling at him. Right. He didn’t like being called a cat. But too bad, he deserved it. </p>
<p>But Morgana didn’t leave. He just sat there, staring at him. </p>
<p>Akira turned away from him, facing the sea once again. Idiots, all of them. Couldn’t even understand a simple instruction. Tears were beginning to well up in his eyes again. He wiped them furiously away. </p>
<p>He was useless here—that was the truth of it. They all wanted his teenage self back. <em>Akira</em> wanted his teenage self back. He seemed to be coping with all of it much better as an older person than he was right now. He would no doubt know what to do to get these pesky ‘friends’ off his back. Well. He probably wouldn’t even have to. They were <em>his</em> friends, after all. </p>
<p>A little white nose entered his vision, and before Akira could stop him, Morgana had clambered into his lap, and was now staring up at him with a sad expression on his face. As sad as cats could look, anyway. Akira didn’t need his pity.</p>
<p>“Don’t look at me,” he seethed, aware of how puffy his eyes must be, how red his nose must look, how pathetic and vulnerable he must seem. </p>
<p>To his surprise, Morgana obeyed, and curled up in his lap, facing away from him. Akira reached out to stroke him instinctively—he was so used to cats he didn’t know any different. His fur was very soft. </p>
<p>For some unknowable reason, that knowledge made him start crying again, and he wiped his face with still more fury. Crying over a cat’s fur—this was truly embarrassing. His face was beginning to ache from all the tears. Stupid, stupid, stupid. That was what he was. If any of those other people spotted him he thought he might die on the spot from the pure shame of it all. </p>
<p>Never had he wished more fervently that he never existed. If the ground could just do him a favour and swallow him up for all eternity he’d be sincerely grateful. </p>
<p>After considerably more blinking, he finally managed to stop crying, which made Morgana turn around and peer at him again. Probably best to preempt any nasty surprises.</p>
<p>“How long until they get here?” he croaked.</p>
<p>“Who?” asked Morgana.</p>
<p>“The Phantom Thieves!” snapped Akira. Morgana’s ears flattened again. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” mumbled Akira, and stroked Morgana’s head gently, hoping that helped.</p>
<p>“They aren’t coming,” said Morgana, quietly. </p>
<p>Akira frowned at him. “They...aren’t?” </p>
<p>“I didn’t tell them about here,” said Morgana, nodding at the tent just behind Akira. “I thought it would probably upset you.” </p>
<p>He’d...thought about it? And he’d done it to avoid hurting Akira’s feelings? Akira couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter rising in his throat—though it threw him nearly to the point of tears again. </p>
<p>“Are you mad?” asked Morgana, looking at him anxiously.</p>
<p>“No,” said Akira, covering his smile with his hand—his emotions really were all over the place today, weren’t they? “I’m not mad. Thank you—for thinking about it, I mean.” </p>
<p>Morgana head-butted his hand affectionately in reply. </p>
<p>For a moment they just sat like that in silence—some of Akira’s anxiety alleviated by the fact the Thieves didn’t know where he was. Then Morgana rose to his feet, and got out of Akira’s lap, turning around to sit down in front of him. His head was bowed. </p>
<p>“I’m the one who told them you were here in the village,” said Morgana, swishing his tail guiltily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would upset you so much, but I promised them I’d find you, and—”</p>
<p>“It’s okay.”</p>
<p>Morgana’s head snapped up to look at him. “It is?”</p>
<p>“Well,” sighed Akira. “I wish they weren’t here. But I understand why you told them. I know I can be...a lot to deal with.”</p>
<p>Morgana’s ears drooped slightly. “Is that what you think?”</p>
<p>“It’s true, isn’t it?” asked Akira, a fake, polite smile automatically stretching across his face at the confession, to try and offset the harshness of his words. “My personality is...off-putting. Plenty of people tell me so. That’s why I try to stay out of their way.” </p>
<p>“You’re not off-putting!” Morgana hissed furiously. “Who says that? They can go and throw themselves into a dumpster-fire!”</p>
<p>Akira couldn’t help but laugh at his passion. “You don’t think so?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. “Even though I never listen to you?”</p>
<p>“You <em>do</em> listen,” said Morgana, quietly. “You grasped the Metaverse so quickly it was kind of shocking. You just...don’t do what other people tell you to.”</p>
<p>“And it’s really frustrating, right?”</p>
<p>Morgana curled his tail uncomfortably. “Well, yes. But it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.” </p>
<p>“No,” Akira agreed. “Just...a really difficult one.” </p>
<p>Morgana padded closer and rubbed his head against Akira’s knee. “I like you,” he said. </p>
<p>“Weird.”</p>
<p>“You’re the weird one.” </p>
<p>Akira chuckled. “I can’t argue with that.” </p>
<p>Morgana sighed and looked up at him with his large blue eyes. “What are we gonna do now?” </p>
<p>“I don’t know,” said Akira, quietly. </p>
<p>He had been planning to just sit here and let doom fall upon him in the form of the inevitable reappearance of the Thieves. And even now, though they didn’t know exactly where he was, they’d probably work it out eventually. </p>
<p>“They’re not bad people, y’know,” said Morgana, quietly. “I know they probably seemed scary, but they really were just trying to help.”</p>
<p>Akira closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to ignore the anger bubbling up inside again. Help. How could they possibly help him? </p>
<p>“Wish they’d just asked first,” he muttered. </p>
<p>“Do you really hate Tokyo that much?” asked Morgana. </p>
<p>“I do,” said Akira, firmly. “It’s just...too much. Too different. I only just got used to the idea I might be in the future—I don’t want to go to some new, terrifying place on top of that.”</p>
<p>“I understand,” said Morgana, nodding. “It makes sense that you wouldn’t like it. It’s just...going to be really difficult for you trying to live out here. You know that, don’t you?” </p>
<p>Akira snorted. “No more difficult than usual.” </p>
<p>Morgana tilted his head curiously. Seemed his older self hadn’t talked about what life was like back in Itoiyama. Just as well. Akira tried to avoid talking about it if he could as well.</p>
<p>People tended to get all overwrought when they heard the actual details of his life, and Akira didn’t understand why, nor did he care to deal with their precious feelings on the matter. It was his life, and it wasn’t changing any time soon. He could do without strangers sending him pitying looks on every street corner. But Morgana wasn’t quite a stranger. And he probably wouldn’t be confident in Akira’s ability to deal with this situation unless he knew the truth. So he spoke. </p>
<p>“This is pretty much what my life is like back home too. I mean—I have an actual house, not a tent,” he said, gesturing to the scruffy thing behind him, “and I can cook there so I don’t have to constantly get take-out. And obviously I go to school too. But otherwise? This is it. Sleep, fish, eat, sell the fish to get money to eat. That’s my life.” </p>
<p>“Where are your parents?” asked Morgana, in a slightly strangled voice. </p>
<p>Akira shrugged. “Dunno. Out. Working, I think. They pay for the bills for the house and give me money to buy stuff to eat so it’s not like I can complain.”</p>
<p>“But not enough money,” said Morgana, sharply, “otherwise you wouldn’t have to sell the fish.”</p>
<p>Akira laughed and ruffled his fur. “Hey, you’re pretty smart.”</p>
<p>“Don’t dodge the issue!”</p>
<p>Akira sighed. “Yeah, they don’t give me enough. But they don’t believe me when I tell them I need more so I’m pretty much stuck. But I survive. It’s no big deal.”</p>
<p>Morgana twitched his ears like he thought it <em>was</em> a pretty big deal, but didn’t say anything. </p>
<p>“So anyway,” said Akira, “the point is: I’m used to this. It’s just more of the same. You really don’t need to worry about me. I’ve been managing for ten years, I think I can manage for however long this weird de-aging thing lasts.” </p>
<p>Morgana groomed his head agitatedly, then looked up at Akira again. “But, wouldn’t it be easier for you if someone was giving you enough food and stuff?” </p>
<p>Akira stared at him. “Who’s gonna do that?”</p>
<p>“Your friends, duh!” said Morgana, some of his fur sticking on end. </p>
<p>“Oh, right.” Those dunderheads. Personally, Akira wouldn’t trust them to look after Morgana, let alone him. “I don’t need them.” </p>
<p>Morgana made a very put-upon sound, which Akira did not appreciate. “The point isn’t whether you need them, it’s that they can <em>help</em> you!” </p>
<p>Ugh, he really just wasn’t getting it, was he? “I know they <em>can</em> help me,” he acknowledged, bitterly. “My point is that they don’t <em>have</em> to. It’s bad enough being stuck in the future, I don’t want to be a burden on my future self’s friends too. I’ve probably annoyed them enough as it is.”</p>
<p>“You aren’t a burden!” screeched Morgana.</p>
<p>“I’m a ten year old kid!” cried Akira, exasperated, “I’m about as far from useful as it’s possible to be! Unless you like sea bass, in which case you can worship me—but that’s besides the point! I don’t need help! I don’t <em>want</em> help.”</p>
<p>“You. Are. Impossible,” muttered Morgana. </p>
<p>“Exactly,” said Akira, glad he was finally getting the gist of it. “So feel free to leave. I’ll be fine. I’ll probably just...turn back one day and then come back to Tokyo and live like normal again.”</p>
<p>“That’s not an option,” said Morgana, and there was a deadly seriousness in his tone that Akira didn’t like at all.</p>
<p>“Why?” he asked, suddenly feeling much more uncertain. “What’s wrong? Was there something you needed from me?”</p>
<p>Morgana’s expression became pained. “I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to bring this up.”</p>
<p>“Bring <em>what</em> up?” This didn’t sound normal, whatever it was.</p>
<p>Morgana gave a heavy sigh. “We need you back in Tokyo because we need to know the moment you turn back into a teenager. There was a time-sensitive thing we were doing, and it won’t work if you stay as a kid.”</p>
<p>“How long do you have?” asked Akira, aware his voice had gone slightly croaky.</p>
<p>“Two weeks,” said Morgana, quietly.</p>
<p>“And what will happen if you don’t do it?”</p>
<p>Morgana looked at him with soul-crushing misery. “You’ll die.” </p><hr/>
<p>Goro was thinking. He hadn’t had much time to think lately, but with the group split up again to go and look for Akira and Morgana, he finally had some time to himself. And his thoughts were not pleasant.</p>
<p>This whole ‘Akira turning into a child’ business was turning out to be a lot more hassle than he’d thought it would be. For one thing, there was the fact they had no idea how long the status effect would last. What if it was permanent? It seemed...unlikely; no other status effects were permanent, so far as he knew. But none of them lasted outside the Metaverse either, so this was already outside the realm of normal. </p>
<p>What if Akira <em>did</em> turn back, but it was only <em>after</em> the 18th? He couldn’t arrest a ten year old—he’d be the laughing stock of the police station, and Shido would probably think he was losing his grip and have him ‘dealt with’ to boot. So that was definitely out. </p>
<p>Ideally, of course, he’d turn back before the 18th and it wouldn’t be a problem. But the risk of that <em>not</em> happening was uncomfortably high, in Goro’s opinion. </p>
<p>Ugh. He really, <em>really</em> didn’t want to have to scrap his meticulously thought-out and elaborately pre-arranged plan. It’d be annoying for him, and it would make Shido doubt his abilities—a killer combination if there ever was one. Equally: he couldn’t accuse a ten year old of being the leader of the Phantom Thieves. The idea was ludicrous. </p>
<p>Part of him wondered if this was some elaborate plot on Akira’s part to ruin his plan...but that would require him to control Shadows to some extent, and Goro was fairly sure that even with his prodigious list of powers, Akira couldn’t do that. </p>
<p>So it was probably just fate fucking with him again. Goro wasn’t sure which was worse, to be honest. </p>
<p>On the other hand, he might not actually <em>need</em> to do anything. The Phantom Thieves were more or less useless without their leader, Makoto had said it herself, and if Akira really didn’t turn back their activities would come to an untimely halt of their own accord. On the other other hand, if Akira <em>did</em> turn back after the 18th, he was fucked. Well. He supposed he could just go with brute force and have the police drag him out of that damned café and into police custody without screwing about in the Metaverse. It was inelegant, but his hand had been forced. </p>
<p>But crucial to all those plans was first <em>finding</em> Akira and persuading him to return to Tokyo. Which was looking like a monumental task all its own. </p>
<p>Why was he so afraid of the city? Goro couldn’t fathom it. Could it really just be a terrible first impression? But it wasn’t like anything dreadful had happened to him there before his swift departure. Did Akira really frighten that easily? That didn’t square with the image of him Goro held in his head. But, he had to remind himself, that image was of a seventeen year old Akira. This Akira was ten. God only knew Goro was different at age ten to how he was now. So perhaps he was being slightly unfair. </p>
<p>Still, he couldn’t help but think there was something not quite right with Akira. And if he was going to pull this off, he needed to work out what. And step one of finding out what, was finding Akira himself. </p><hr/>
<p>Morgana had explained only the basics to Akira: how Akechi had tried to deceive them and how they were planning to trick him to try and get the upper hand. How Akira was now in imminent danger. But to his frustration, Akira did not seem particularly alarmed by any of this information.</p>
<p>“But do you really think this guy would kill me as I am now?” he asked, once Morgana was done explaining. </p>
<p>“Maybe!” Morgana insisted. “Who knows what’s going on in his head? He’s a serial killer!” </p>
<p>“But not like, for fun,” Akira pointed out. “He’s working for someone, you said so yourself.”</p>
<p>Damn Child Akira and his habit of listening to absolutely everything. “Well, yes, but—”</p>
<p>“And the reason he wants to kill me is because I’m the leader of the Phantom Thieves, right?” </p>
<p>“Akira,” said Morgana, tiredly, but Akira had predictably stopped paying attention. </p>
<p>“But I’m <em>not</em> the leader of the Phantom Thieves anymore, so he won’t kill me while I’m like this,” he announced, as though that decided it. </p>
<p>“Akira,” said Morgana again, “we can’t possibly know that. He may decide it’s actually <em>easier</em> to deal with you in this form than it is with the normal version of you because you’re so young.” </p>
<p>“Hmm,” said Akira. “You make a good point. Still, didn’t you say he was planning to arrest and interrogate me?”</p>
<p>“...Yes.” </p>
<p>“And he kind of needs police authority to do that, right?”</p>
<p>“Not a lot,” said Morgana, stubbornly. “But yes.” </p>
<p>“So how’s he going to convince them a ten year old did all that stuff?” </p>
<p>Akira...had a point. But he’d be damned if he’d admit it. </p>
<p>“So he probably won’t try and kill you that way,” said Morgana, flicking his tail irritably, “that doesn’t mean he won’t still try some other way.”</p>
<p>Akira threw up his hands in frustration. “All the more reason for me to stay out here! Y’know—<em>away</em> from him.” </p>
<p>God, this really was like trying to get blood from a stone. He had a better idea of why now, of course, but that didn’t change the fact that the way Akira was acting was incredibly inconvenient. He wasn’t going to say so—Akira seemed plenty aware of it himself and Morgana didn’t want him to begin spiralling again. But still, leaving him alone out here didn’t sit right. And the others would surely find them again eventually. </p>
<p>“Would you be willing to talk to someone else in the group?” asked Morgana, since <em>he</em> was clearly getting nowhere with Akira. </p>
<p>Akira scowled. Not a good sign. “I dunno,” he said, “would they be willing to talk to me without threatening to kidnap me?” </p>
<p>He’d also like for this rift between Akira and the rest of the group to be healed as quickly as possible—it could only lead to bad things if he continued to distrust them—as Morgana knew well enough from his own experience.</p>
<p>“Let me go and talk to them,” said Morgana, rising to his feet. </p>
<p>Akira sighed and drew his knees up in front of his face. “I’m going to wait in the Metaverse,” he said quietly. “I dunno why, but I feel safer there.”</p>
<p>“Fine,” sighed Morgana. “It’d probably be best—especially if Akechi turns up. I’ll bring someone here to meet you there then.”</p>
<p>Akira nodded silently, then brought out his phone and disappeared into the Metaverse.</p>
<p>Morgana needed to move quickly. Akira was right—he probably would be safer in the Metaverse, especially with his apparent ability to manipulate it at will, and he probably had enough wherewithal to keep out of Akechi’s way once he was there—but it wouldn’t be fair to just leave him to it. He needed to find someone—someone who might be able to properly convince Akira to return to Tokyo on their own. But who?</p><hr/>
<p>Akira was bored. He’d spent almost ninety percent of his life bored. Which might be why the last few hours had been so exhausting to him. </p>
<p>He wasn’t used to feeling that much emotion all at once, and he was even less used to actually talking about it with someone else. But now the excitement had faded, and boredom was creeping in once more—and he found that, unlike usual, he wasn’t content to just sit with it. He needed to do...something, which was why he’d gone a little way away from the cave, back up into the forest—and why, while he was in the forest, he’d gone down a path leading down to the beach.</p>
<p>He told himself he wouldn’t be there long—he just wanted to explore for a bit before returning to his hiding place. And he hadn’t been there long. He thought. </p>
<p>The cave where he’d mounted his tent wasn’t visible from the beach, hidden by the cliff which separated the rocks from the forest. </p>
<p>The beach itself was pebbled and rough, with only tiny bands of sand interspersed by wide stretches of rock. He’d crept over to the sea’s edge, where the waves rolled onto the shore. </p>
<p>He wanted to test how much the Metaverse worked off thought. Obviously he’d been able to do something with his tent—but that had been based off a construction in reality. What about here? Purely in the world of thoughts? Could he really manipulate reality how he pleased?</p>
<p>For example, Akira knew that, objectively speaking, he was no good at skipping rocks. It took a certain kind of throw—and a certain kind of rock—and he’d never been able to perfect it. But he’d quite <em>like</em> to be good at skipping rocks. And he knew <em>how</em> to skip rocks. And he’d seen other people skipping rocks far better than him. So really, there was no reason he <em>should</em> be bad at skipping rocks.</p>
<p>And it was with that thought—that train of logic stuck in his head, that he picked up a rock, and threw it into the ocean. And it skipped. He picked up another and tried it again. It seemed easier that time. And as he picked up more rocks, and threw them, he found he got more used to the idea that he really was good at skipping rocks. </p>
<p>Now...would that make him good in reality? There was only one way to find out. He hurried back up the path into the forest, and almost rushed straight back into his cave hideout—but he paused, at just the last second. </p>
<p>Because there was someone already there. </p>
<p>It was not Morgana and whoever he’d chosen to ‘talk’ to Akira. But it <em>was</em> one of the Phantom Thieves, that much was for certain—their costume gave them away entirely. But Akira didn’t know <em>who</em> it was, exactly. Morgana had told him a few of their names—but he couldn’t match them to faces. And this person was alone, so it wasn’t like it was going to come up in conversation either. </p>
<p>He settled himself behind a tree, secure in the knowledge he was hidden, and observed the stranger. He was of average height—assuming he was a ‘he’—he had quite long hair for a boy, and was wearing a particularly garish-looking costume. Most of the Thieves Akira had seen had worn dark costumes—this one was white, with gaudy red accents, and the boy’s red mask reminded him unpleasantly of a mosquito, with a long, pointy nose. </p>
<p>For some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, he did not think the costume suited the boy. It seemed...wrong, somehow. Perhaps it was the way he was creeping through Akira’s campsite like a stealthy predator, or maybe just because the white made him stand out so much when he obviously wanted to remain unseen, but Akira couldn’t help but think that the boy, who looked so wrong in this world of thoughts and feelings, must be a liar in some capacity. </p>
<p>And if this boy was a liar, and yet part of the Phantom Thieves, Akira thought he could guess who it was. </p>
<p>Akechi, that was his name. </p>
<p>Akira’s soon-to-be-murderer. Apparently. Personally, Akira wasn’t sure he could stomach the idea of being killed by someone with such an awful and inappropriate taste in clothes. If he was really so intent on sneaking, he ought to at least have gone to the trouble of changing before he decided to creep around. Even Akira knew that, and he’d never killed anybody. </p>
<p>He watched Akechi some more from his hiding place. He seemed to have enough rudimentary intelligence to work out from the tent that this was where Akira had been sleeping, since he was searching the area thoroughly and methodically. He hadn’t spotted Akira yet though. So he couldn’t be all that smart. </p>
<p>As Akira looked a bit more closely he saw that Akechi possessed both a sword and a gun, so if he wanted to hurt or kill him he probably could. In fact, it might even be easier for him to do it here in the Metaverse than it was in the real world...assuming this wasn’t also what he wore outside too. Akira tried to think back to seeing the group outside the shop...no, he was quite sure they were all dressed normally then. So why did they look so different in here? Maybe they could control the Metaverse to some extent too? Still. Akira disapproved of the outfit. </p>
<p>It was then that he spotted Morgana and...someone else coming down the path. She appeared to be dressed like some eighteenth century highwayman, with a feathered hat and a stylish black mask. It wasn’t long before the two of them spotted Akechi. The girl was the first to speak.</p>
<p>“Oh, Akechi-kun! What a surprise!”</p>
<p>Akechi quickly straightened up, evidently embarrassed about being caught sneaking. </p>
<p>“Ah, Okumura-san, I didn’t see you coming. And Morgana! This is turning into quite the gathering, isn’t it?” </p>
<p>Hmm. Akechi sounded much less...well, evil, than Akira had expected him to. Moreover, Akira thought he might be the same Phantom Thief who’d stopped the others pursuing him when he’d tried to run away a second time. Odd. But perhaps all a part of his intricate web of lies. His voice did sound...strangely staged, in this world. </p>
<p>“There are too many people here now,” Morgana huffed. “He’s probably hidden again.” </p>
<p>“Was Akira here?” asked Akechi, fake surprise ringing in his voice. “Well if he was he isn’t now. I assure you I’ve searched this area thoroughly.” </p>
<p>“Akira’s good at hiding,” said Morgana, stand-offishly. </p>
<p>...Considering they were trying to make sure Akechi wasn’t suspicious of them, Morgana certainly did a bad job concealing his dislike of him. But then, Morgana was an opinionated cat, as Akira had quickly learnt. So perhaps he could get away with it. </p>
<p>“Morgana was just telling me that Akira dislikes large groups of people,” said the girl, smiling winningly at Akechi. Her voice sounded a bit staged too, for that matter. “Would you mind going elsewhere for just a bit Akechi-kun? We’d like to see if we can get him to speak to one of us one-on-one.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” said Akechi, “if you think that’ll be the easiest way.”</p>
<p>He bowed slightly, then walked away from them, back up the path. The moment his back was turned, Akira could see plainly that his fake smile had faded, now replaced by an odd, intimidating blank expression. As he walked up the path, he came dangerously close to where Akira was hiding behind a tree, but despite this he still didn’t seem to notice him, his eyes sliding blankly past him, even as Akira was almost sure he should spot him. And he went on, oblivious to Akira entirely. How odd.</p>
<p>“I’m glad Akira managed to hide,” sighed Morgana, once Akechi was well out of earshot. </p>
<p>“Did you tell him to hide from Akechi?” asked the girl, sounding quite surprised. </p>
<p>“Yes,” Morgana sighed. “I ended up having to tell him everything.”</p>
<p>Her eyes widened. “Wait—you mean about—”</p>
<p>“The plan, yeah.” Morgana looked quite ashamed about it. “There was no other way to convince him—and even <em>now</em> he still keeps arguing with me!”</p>
<p>The girl frowned beneath her mask. “If he’s having such a negative reaction, perhaps there’s more to this than him merely disliking Tokyo. It sounds like there’s an underlying reason for his hesitance we haven’t realised yet.”</p>
<p>Akira felt mildly offended by all their postulating. Why did they think going back to Tokyo was such a great option anyway? He could do just fine out here, he’d said so a million times. Still. He <em>had</em> agreed to talk to one of the Phantom Thieves. So it was only fair he finally revealed himself. He crept out from behind the tree, and walked back down to the cliff-side. </p>
<p>“Akira!” yelled Morgana, as soon as he saw him. Akira glared at him for his trouble. He abashedly looked at the floor. The girl smiled at him as he approached.</p>
<p>“Who are you?” he asked, as soon as he was close enough to speak without having to shout.</p>
<p>“I’m Haru Okumura,” she said, beaming at him. “And you must be Akira-chan, yes?” </p>
<p>Akira wrinkled his nose a bit at the honorific. “I’m Akira,” he said. </p>
<p>“Of course,” said Haru, breezing over this lightly. Good. She wasn’t the type to ask questions. “So, is this where you’ve been living? I have to say it’s quite impressive.”</p>
<p>She nodded at the tent. </p>
<p>“Thanks,” said Akira, unsure of really how to respond. Maybe if she thought it was impressive she wouldn’t try to convince him to return to Tokyo...? </p>
<p>“It’s just a pile of sticks in the real world,” Morgana said unhelpfully. </p>
<p>“Hey,” said Akira sharply, “it’s upright, isn’t it? And I don’t use it in the real world, that’s the whole point.” </p>
<p>“Wow, you’ve really adapted to the idea of the Metaverse quickly!” said Haru, her eyes widening. </p>
<p>Morgana had said the same thing. Was it really that strange? The Metaverse didn’t seem all that complex to him. In fact, it seemed far easier to understand than the real world, which was full of obtuse rules that didn’t make sense. But perhaps he shouldn’t say anything. He came off as strange enough as it was, he knew that. </p>
<p>“Do you want to stay here, Akira?” asked Haru, gently.</p>
<p>“Will you <em>let</em> me?” asked Akira, giving her a half-hearted glare. </p>
<p>Haru gave a sad smile, straightening up slightly. “I’m sorry we alarmed you like that, it wasn’t our intention to frighten you.”</p>
<p>“You threatened me,” muttered Akira. “What else was I supposed to think?” </p>
<p>“If you really don’t want to come back to Tokyo with us we won’t force you,” said Haru.</p>
<p>“Don’t say that!” hissed Morgana, but Haru glared at him, which swiftly shut him up. </p>
<p>“I mean it,” she said, her voice soft again. “We wouldn’t want to upset you any further, Akira.” </p>
<p>“What are you going to do about Akechi?” sighed Akira, glancing off up the cliff, where he’d disappeared off to. “Think he’s going to give up?”</p>
<p>A slightly hard look entered Haru’s eyes at the mention of Akechi, and Akira remembered how oddly tight her voice had sounded while talking to him. She disliked him then—and it didn’t seem like standard dislike either. Interesting. </p>
<p>“It’s hard to say,” she said slowly. “Certainly I think that while there’s still a chance you’ll turn back before the deadline, he won’t give up on his plan.”</p>
<p>So, it all came back to that then. Akira sighed. “Think there’s any way to turn me back?” </p>
<p>Both Haru and Morgana looked a little shocked at this suggestion.</p>
<p>“Well, perhaps,” said Morgana, quickly recovering his composure. “There’s magic I can do that cures most status effects.”</p>
<p>“Well then, give it a go,” said Akira, holding out his hands expectantly. </p>
<p>Morgana muttered something under his breath, and all at once a massive figure appeared behind him, making Akira jump back with a yelp. The next second he was enveloped in a strange, cool mist, and he felt rather dizzy. </p>
<p>Then the mist faded. </p>
<p>...His hands still looked pretty small. </p>
<p>“Drat,” muttered Morgana. </p>
<p>“What <em>was</em> that?” asked Akira. </p>
<p>“Oh! I guess I never really did explain Personas to you, did I?” said Morgana, slightly sheepishly. </p>
<p>This was getting worse by the second. “Personas?” </p>
<p>“They’re like...how best to explain...they’re like the rebellion in your heart,” Morgana eventually settled on. </p>
<p>Akira did not feel any more enlightened. “Rebellion against what?”</p>
<p>“Society, I guess,” said Morgana. “It kinda varies for each person.”</p>
<p>“It’s why we look like this!” Haru helpfully added, gesturing at her costume. </p>
<p>“So you get a giant...thing and a costume...if you rebel against society,” said Akira, not completely sure he was getting it. </p>
<p>“That’s more or less it!” said Morgana.</p>
<p>“Why do you all have one and I don’t?” </p>
<p>Morgana suddenly looked alarmed. “Well, um, you’re very young, and—”</p>
<p>“You almost manifested one before,” said Haru, looking at him rather sharply now. “When we cornered you.” </p>
<p>“Don’t tell him that!”</p>
<p>“He needs to know!” Haru insisted. </p>
<p>“I...almost got one?” Akira wondered aloud. He did feel strange back then. Like there was something grasping at the centre of his chest, a voice trying to talk to him, one that he couldn’t quite hear...it had faded after he ran away. “It was...” He wasn’t sure scary was the right word. He hadn’t been afraid. In fact it had almost felt... “Familiar.” </p>
<p>“You do already have one—as your older self—I mean,” said Morgana.</p>
<p>“Right.” Was that why he felt so comfortable in this world? Was there still some residual influence from his...Persona? Was that what he’d felt before—that anger burning inside him, trying to reach out to him somehow... Trying to...help him? “Do they protect you?”</p>
<p>“Sort of,” said Morgana, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “Different ones have different abilities. I can do healing, and when I do magic it takes the form of wind.”</p>
<p>“And mine is psychic!” Haru helpfully added. </p>
<p>“What was mine?” asked Akira. He could hardly imagine himself doing magic at all, let alone a special type.</p>
<p>“It’s complicated,” Morgana said quickly, cutting off Haru before she could say anything. “And also besides the point—what are you going to do now?” </p>
<p>Akira gave an exasperated sigh. They really were pushing the point now, weren’t they? Ideally he’d get to stay out here undisturbed until he turned back into a teenager, but Akechi now knew where he was, which meant there was a non-zero chance of him just showing up one day and killing him while he was vulnerable, and that was hardly ideal. </p>
<p>Tokyo, while vast, noisy and completely unappealing, at least had the advantage of being busy, so he could signal someone at any time if he thought he was in danger... </p>
<p>He really hated the thought that he was now ‘in danger’. Insufferable. That was what it was. And it wasn’t like he was any safer in the Metaverse, since Akechi knew how to use that, and he had a Persona while Akira didn’t.</p>
<p>But. Akira could hide in the Metaverse. Hide so well Akechi hadn’t spotted him, even though he was in plain sight. And he had almost <em>gotten</em> a Persona...</p>
<p>“What are you thinking, Akira?” asked Haru.</p>
<p>Nothing either of them would approve of, if their reactions just to him living alone were any indication. Still. He supposed that was a ‘pro’ to going back to Tokyo. From Morgana’s remarks, the Metaverse worked a little differently there, so he’d be able to better assess his options. And besides—this wasn’t the only village on the outskirts of Tokyo. He could easily duck out to another one if it got too much. </p>
<p>As far he saw it, there were four major things he needed to do: firstly, not die. He was an expert at not-dying after ten years of it, so that should be fine. </p>
<p>Secondly, work out who Akechi was working for. If he knew the true mastermind behind the assassinations, he could work out whether Akechi would actually try to kill him as a child or not, which would make his life a lot easier either way. </p>
<p>Thirdly, if Akechi <em>was</em> going to kill him, it would be in his best interests to get a Persona—the Metaverse was just too useful to be left defenceless in. </p>
<p>Fourthly, even if Akechi <em>wasn’t</em> planning to kill him, it would be best to cut off the head of the snake in the form of whoever his boss was. No boss, no more potential murder—for him, or his teenage self. After all, Akira reasoned, anyone using a teenage hitman to kill people was pretty likely to have a Palace, right? </p>
<p>So. Plan acquired. Methods of survival covered. Now for the hard part. Taking the train ride back to Tokyo without bolting on instinct. </p>
<p>Even if Akechi hadn’t been trying to kill him, Akira would have hated him purely on the basis of forcing him back into the city. Damn him and his inconvenient murder plans. But Akira would get to him. Eventually. Probably. He definitely wasn’t going to be <em>killed</em> by him—that much was absolutely certain. So. </p>
<p>Damn it. </p>
<p>He really didn’t want to say this. </p>
<p>“Akira?” asked Morgana.</p>
<p>“I’ll go back to Tokyo.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Morgana: *tells Akira the plan in the hopes of convincing him to go back to Tokyo*<br/>Akira: So you're saying we should kill the Prime Minister.<br/>Morgana: God-fucking-dammit.</p>
<p>Well. He did agree to going back to Tokyo so I guess Morgana's plan kind of worked. But god at what cost? I mean, really Morgana (and all the other PTs for that matter) should have guessed that a child with Akira's disposition (and absolutely ruthless efficiency in the face of all obstacles) would be liable to get himself into a whole heap more trouble back in Tokyo than he actually was out in a rural village. Nice going, everyone.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Back to Tokyo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akira was already regretting his decision. He’d put in a few caveats to his agreement: he would agree to go to Tokyo, on the condition he didn’t have to sit with all of them on the way back, and that the people he <em>was</em> allowing to stay with him (namely Morgana and Haru) took him straight to where he was staying with no detours. Just because he was going back to the city that didn’t mean he had to stick around and sightsee. </p>
<p>Already he was receiving pushback. </p>
<p>“Um, Futaba-chan says that she won’t allow you to stay in the café alone with Akechi still prowling about, so you’ll have to live with her and Sojiro,” said Haru, reading her text messages. </p>
<p>Akira stared at her. “I take it Akechi isn’t part of your group chat?” </p>
<p>“No,” said Haru, with a small smile, “we have a separate one with him in. I announced it in that one, but naturally, Futaba-chan replied in the separate one.”</p>
<p>“Ask her if Sojiro even has space for me.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” said Haru, in a tone of voice that suggested he probably wouldn’t like the answer he’d receive. A series of pings from Haru’s phone signified a rapid-fire set of messages, presumably from Futaba. </p>
<p>“Um, she’s said a lot but it basically summarises to: they’ll make space for you.” </p>
<p>Akira snorted. He knew full well what that meant. He was sleeping on the floor in the living room. In many ways that was vastly worse than living alone in a café. But he supposed he’d have to stick it until he could discover the person pulling Akechi’s strings.</p>
<p>“Would you mind her swapping with me, Akira?” asked Haru. “If you still don’t want to see many people.”</p>
<p>Akira sighed. “I guess that’s fine.” </p>
<p>“Um, guys,” said Morgana, from where he was trotting along by Akira’s feet. “Look who it is.” </p>
<p>Ahead of them on the path into the village was none other than Akechi, no longer dressed quite so absurdly, now he was out of the Metaverse. Akira still thought he gave off a strong aura of untrustworthiness. </p>
<p>“Ah, I see you’ve had success,” Akechi said, walking towards them. Akira wished he wouldn’t. “Hello Akira, I’m sorry we had to meet in such tense circumstances.” He flashed a brilliant, and patently fake smile at him. Akira glared right back. </p>
<p>“Akira’s agreed to come back to Tokyo,” said Haru.</p>
<p>“I saw in the chat,” said Akechi, apparently undaunted by Akira’s glare. The cheek of him. “I take it that agreement is not without compromise?” </p>
<p>“He’d prefer to avoid most of us on the train. He wanted to go back with just Morgana, but I think one of us should show him the way to the café in person.” </p>
<p>“I agree,” said Akechi, “he’d be a far too easy target on his own, even with Morgana. Who were you thinking of choosing? Yourself perhaps?” </p>
<p>“No,” said Haru, “I think Futaba-chan might be the best choice, given she lives so nearby the Leblanc.”</p>
<p>“Ah, I see,” said Akechi, still smiling insufferably. “Yes, that does make sense...though, has Futaba sufficiently recovered from her agoraphobia to take him alone?”</p>
<p>Agoraphobia—so she was afraid to go outside? That was strange. He hadn’t imagined any of the Phantom Thieves would have problems like that. </p>
<p>“She’s always seemed to trust Akira the most out of all of us,” said Haru. </p>
<p>“True,” said Akechi, “but that was an older Akira. Would she place the same trust in a child?”</p>
<p>So Futaba really <em>liked</em> his older self? Sounded like Morgana hadn’t been joking about the Phantom Thieves being his friends...though it was kind of intimidating. It wasn’t like <em>he’d</em> done anything to deserve such trust. He did do his best to help people when he could, it was true, but back home people seldom really thought anything of it—and he mostly helped animals anyway. People had a tendency to ignore him. And he certainly didn’t have the capacity to help someone with a clinical condition like agoraphobia. Ugh. He’d known this was going to be a lot of hassle. </p>
<p>“I’m sure Futaba will be fine with Morgana and Akira there,” said Haru, a little more forcefully now. “She’s improved a lot these last few months, you know.” </p>
<p>“You’re right, of course,” said Akechi, quickly becoming bright again. “You should probably contact her to tell her as much. And...Akira would still like to avoid most others you said? He should probably stay here until Futaba comes.” </p>
<p>“Good point,” said Haru, flashing him a similarly fake smile, and presumably texting the group chat Akechi was in, so as not to make him suspicious. </p>
<p>This was all very complicated. Akira found himself very strongly wishing he could go back to the world of a few hours ago, when he wasn’t aware he’d have to deal with any of this. In fact, he wished that he could go back to yesterday, before the lightning storm, back in his hometown, where life was <em>normal</em>. That was what he wanted most of all. But instead he was stuck here, dealing with strangers and murder plots and alternate dimensions—it was all too much. Why was the future so problematic? </p>
<p>And now Akechi-the-murderer was staring at him like a hawk. Akira pointedly ignored him. Whoever Futaba was, he hoped she turned up quickly. </p>
<p>“So, Akira,” said Akechi, now addressing him directly, “how much has Morgana told you about the Metaverse?” </p>
<p>Akira continued to ignore him. He got the strong feeling that the more Akechi knew about him the worse off he’d be, so he was just going to act like he didn’t exist for as long as humanly possible. </p>
<p>“Oh,” said Akechi, sounding disappointed at his non-response, “do you not like me?”</p>
<p>“He might just be overwhelmed,” Haru said, god bless her. “Akira isn’t used to lots of people—he did grow up in the countryside, after all.” </p>
<p>“I suppose that makes sense,” said Akechi, though he still sounded less than pleased. “So then, Morgana, how much does Akira here know? I saw you two made quite an impressive tent in the Metaverse. Did you do that or was it him?” </p>
<p>Akira tried desperately to psychically communicate to Morgana that he should take all the credit for the tent and everything else. He didn’t want Akechi to know that he knew how the Metaverse worked. The more in the dark he was, the better. </p>
<p>Fortunately, Morgana seemed to understand. </p>
<p>“Oh, um, yeah, I was just testing a theory,” he said quickly. “It seemed like a good alternative to a hotel, after Akira said it would be too expensive.”</p>
<p>Thank goodness.</p>
<p>“Ah, I see,” said Akechi. “It’s true that it’d be much safer in the Metaverse than in real life—especially out here. I wonder if that would work with other things in reality, depending on what people thought of them?” </p>
<p>“Hard to say,” said Morgana, laughing nervously. “There aren’t a lot of people around here to shape the Metaverse, after all.”</p>
<p>“Good point.”</p>
<p>Akira could see someone else approaching them from the direction of the village. Another teenager. This had better be Futaba, or he was going to run for it. </p>
<p>“Futaba!” Haru called out to her, upon spotting her, and the girl began jogging over to them. What a relief.</p>
<p>“Oh, hey!” she said, once she was in earshot. She was a small girl, with long, bright orange hair...that couldn’t be natural, could it? “So this is baby Akira, huh?” </p>
<p>“I’m ten,” Akira said sharply. </p>
<p>Honestly, these people. </p>
<p>“Yeah, so basically a baby,” said Futaba.</p>
<p>“Oh?” he asked skeptically. “And how old are you? Twelve? I suppose that makes you a toddler, doesn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Woah, he’s fiery!” said Futaba, a huge grin spreading across her face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen older Akira be this snarky.”</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s well within his capabilities,” Akechi said sourly. Akira found himself strongly approving of his older self, for once. “Anyway, I suppose we ought to be off, it’s beginning to get late, after all.” </p>
<p>“Me and Akechi-kun will go and meet with the others,” said Haru. “Do you want to go and board the train with Mona-chan, and Futaba, Akira?”</p>
<p>“I guess,” he said. He still really wasn’t sold on this whole Tokyo idea, but he supposed he didn’t have much of a choice anymore. </p>
<p>“Hey, it’ll be fine,” said Futaba. “We won’t let anyone kidnap you, promise!”</p>
<p>“Don’t say that!” hissed Morgana, but Futaba didn’t seem to be listening. </p>
<p>“Do you have money for a ticket, Akira?” she asked. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” said Akira. “Come on, let’s go.” </p>
<p>It wasn’t a long walk back to the station, and Akira was eager to get away from Haru and Akechi. The fewer people around the better. Though Futaba felt more like four people than one, he was quickly learning. </p>
<p>“So, what’s with the tree-sleeping, ‘Kira?” she asked, as they entered the village proper. </p>
<p>“It’s Akira,” said Akira, “and I don’t sleep in trees.”</p>
<p>“Then where do you sleep? It’s gotta be outside, going by what Morgana said.”</p>
<p>Akira shot Morgana a disapproving look, which made him fold his ears back in shame. Good. He <em>should</em> be ashamed for making people think Akira slept in trees. </p>
<p>“Why should I tell you?” he asked. “I’m leaving now anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” </p>
<p>“Just trying to make sure you don’t have some weird thing for sleeping outside,” said Futaba, defensively. “‘Cause Sojiro would never allow that.” </p>
<p>“Who is this Sojiro guy?” asked Akira. “You seem to know him pretty well.”</p>
<p>“You totally just dodged the question!” cried Futaba, frustrated. “But Sojiro’s my adopted dad, if you were wondering.”</p>
<p>“Oh, so you’re family,” said Akira. Great. Another dynamic he’d be busting into. “Would he even be okay having me live in his house? I’m just some stranger.” </p>
<p>“What?” cried Futaba. “Don’t be crazy! You’re Akira—he knows you! You’re like family too!” </p>
<p>Well, that was just absurd. </p>
<p>“Don’t be silly,” he said. </p>
<p>After all, his own parents didn’t want to be associated with him. Why would some café-owner/probation-officer care? Even if his older self had cultivated a decent relationship with this Sojiro (and it would have been smart to, given the man controlled his entire future) there was no guarantee that his current state wouldn’t wreck all that hard work. He was a difficult, self-centred and interfering little brat—most everyone said so. And he wasn’t about to change now. </p>
<p>“You’re really rude, you know that?” said Futaba crossly. </p>
<p>“Yep,” said Akira. </p>
<p>They were finally at the ticket office. He pulled out his wallet, and began counting the money for two tickets and the pet fare.</p>
<p>“Woah,” said Futaba, looking over his shoulder. “You have so much money!”</p>
<p>“Shhh!” hissed Akira, looking around frantically and hoping no one had heard. “Do you <em>want</em> someone to rob us?” </p>
<p>“Oh! Right. Okay.” She made a zipping motion with her fingers over her lips. </p>
<p>Akira rolled his eyes. Once he had the necessary change, he went over to the ticket office and bought the tickets. The ticket officer, like all adults, seemed uninterested. Good. </p>
<p>He hurried back over to them with his haul. “Let’s hurry,” he said, pressing the ticket into Futaba’s hand. “We don’t have long until the train leaves.”</p>
<p>“Then let’s march!” cried Futaba, and immediately began an exaggerated march into the station and onto the train. Akira followed in silence, Morgana close by his heels. </p>
<p>Once they were all seated, and Morgana was perched on his lap, Futaba started in on her interrogation again. </p>
<p>“Where’d you get all that cash?” she asked, her eyes gleaming. “Did you have it before you came?”</p>
<p>Akira, in no mood to confide in anyone else about the sorry state of his home-life, decided to go with his usual standby—outrageous lies.</p>
<p>“I stole it all in a bank robbery, committed shortly before I came here,” he said seriously. “In a way it’s lucky it happened the way it did. Had I not been transported so quickly through time and space, I have no doubt the cops would have killed me on the spot.” </p>
<p>Futaba sighed. “Geez, how’d you manage to say all that with a straight face?” </p>
<p>“Practice.”</p>
<p>“Nice to know you’ve always been a reprehensible liar then.”</p>
<p>“That’s me,” said Akira, dully. “King of lies and lord of deceit. All who listen are cursed.”</p>
<p>“Guess I’ll stop listening then.”</p>
<p>“Please do.”</p>
<p>And miraculously she did. She quickly pulled out her phone and became just as mesmerised with it as she had been with questioning him mere moments ago. What a strange girl. </p>
<p>Now, ideally, Akira would spend the rest of this journey gazing out of the window and thinking of nothing in particular. That was his preferred way to deal with things. But today he had a task. And that task was finding out who had ordered Akechi to kill him, as quickly as possible. So he pulled out his own phone and began searching. </p>
<p>There was just the question of...<em>what</em> to search for, exactly. </p>
<p>He suspected typing ‘assassins for hire’ into his search-bar would not only yield poor results but also put him on some sort of government watchlist. He needed to be more subtle than that. But Akechi wasn’t outright killing people, according to Morgana (well, apart from his older self, apparently), he was causing...what was it called? Mental shutdowns? </p>
<p>He quickly searched for the term and immediately got back about a hundred results. An awful lot of them were news articles blaming the Phantom Thieves for the freakish uptick of psychotic breaks and comas that had been popping up all over Japan. Upon clicking on a few and scanning over their contents, he quickly picked up on the main controversy: the death of Kunikazu Okumura. It seemed there had been quite a build-up to it—his competitors had been pulling out left, right and centre as his company got more famous...presumably because their CEOs were becoming mysteriously comatose. </p>
<p>But Okumura didn’t seem to be the only business affected—just the most obvious one. The article speculated about the potential future targets the Thieves might go for—targets that had also had competitors mysteriously dying off. A TV station president...some IT company...a rich noble? These were all sorts of strange people. All of them clearly wanted people dead, yes, but their interests couldn’t <em>all</em> align with Akechi’s could they? Unless he really was a serial killer for fun, offering his services out to whoever purely for the opportunity to kill—in which case Akira was in serious trouble, regardless of his age. </p>
<p>Moreover...where was this going? Akechi clearly planned to kill his older self, blaming the Phantom Thieves for all his previous crimes and thus erasing any suspicion that might fall on him. But that would mean he had to stop the shutdowns, or people would work out that hadn’t been true. So...he must be planning to stop, after this. Which suggested he wasn’t doing it for fun. Which suggested a shadowy figure pulling the strings—reaching for some larger goal in which Akechi was merely a pawn—a pawn that, if this kill list was anything to go by, was going to be swiftly disposed of once the blame was laid elsewhere. </p>
<p>Oh, what had his older self gotten himself into? </p>
<p>And more importantly, was there anyone truly benefiting from all these deaths? Someone who wasn’t Akechi? He tapped idly on the TV station that had been slowly growing in popularity. Ugh. Some politician in ugly glasses was giving a speech. Akira disliked politicians. He had a strong talent for spotting when people were lying, and they were <em>always</em> doing it. It did his head in watching them. He quickly clicked away. Honestly, it’d be hard to tell for sure unless he could see their financial records, and there was no way that was happening any time soon. </p>
<p>He’d suspected it might turn out to be awfully complicated like this. </p>
<p>He gave a heavy sigh, and returned his phone to his pocket. If there was no way of finding out for sure, it would be best for him to err on the side of caution. Which meant he needed to get his Persona activated properly. </p>
<p>Now...how to do that?</p><hr/>
<p>Akira was plotting something. Morgana had been watching him all the way back, and it helpfully turned out that he mirrored his teenage self in that regard. His focus was elsewhere almost throughout the entire train journey, the cogs clearly whirring in his head, concocting some new, probably extremely dangerous scheme. So Morgana was going to make it a priority not to let Akira out of his sight. </p>
<p>He was rather quiet once they were back in Tokyo, though Futaba more than made up for the silence with her ramblings on various subjects—though neither he nor Akira were paying much attention. Fortunately Futaba didn’t really seem to notice. </p>
<p>It was only when they reached the backstreets of Yongen that things really began to happen. </p>
<p>“Ah, home, sweet home,” declared Futaba, as she stepped into the alleyway that led past the Leblanc and to her house at the end of the road. </p>
<p>Akira looked around, clearly not getting it. </p>
<p>“Hey, Mona,” said Futaba, turning to him suddenly, “do you think we should go to the Leblanc first or just head home?”</p>
<p>“No sightseeing,” said Akira, sharply.</p>
<p>“This isn’t sightseeing, dummy,” said Futaba, and she tried to ruffle his hair, but Akira dodged expertly out of the way. “Sojiro’s still working there! Should we go and explain to him or not?”</p>
<p>Akira looked frankly panicked at the idea, and Morgana couldn’t entirely blame him—this was going to be difficult enough to explain without Akira’s strong dislike of new people coming into it. </p>
<p>“Let’s check and make sure no one else is in the café first,” said Morgana, deciding to throw Akira a bone. He still looked less than pleased. </p>
<p>“Sure thing,” said Futaba, then hurried over to the café, peering very unsubtly through the windows. “All-clear!” she called back to them.</p>
<p>“Come on, let’s go,” said Morgana, beginning to move towards the café as Futaba went ahead and let herself in. But Akira did not follow him. </p>
<p>He remained rooted to the spot, looking at the café with his fists clenched by his sides, his face pale, his eyes unfocused. </p>
<p>“Hey,” said Morgana, hurrying back over to him. “Are you okay?” </p>
<p>Akira took a deep breath, then forcibly unclenched his fists. It looked like a lot of effort. “Fine. I’m fine.”</p>
<p>He didn’t look fine. And indeed, though he began towards the café in a determined manner, he only managed a few steps before stopping again. </p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” asked Morgana, padding over to him. </p>
<p>“What if he refuses?” asked Akira, staring miserably at the ground. “It’s well within his rights. What if he won’t let me stay here like this? What will happen? Are the trains still running?”</p>
<p>Morgana got the strong impression if he didn’t intervene there was a high chance of Akira bolting again, so he stuck close to his side and said, “I’m sure the Boss will accept you. There’s no reason he should turn you down.”</p>
<p>Akira sighed sharply. He clearly didn’t believe him.</p>
<p>“Hey, Morgana?”</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“You remember that stuff I said earlier, about my parents?”</p>
<p>How could he forget? Such wretched people. And their attitude had clearly hurt Akira deeply, even if neither his child nor his teenage self wanted to admit it.</p>
<p>“You understand I told you that in confidence, right?” Akira was looking sharply at him now, a hard edge to his gaze.</p>
<p>Right. He didn’t want him to tell anyone else. That made sense. </p>
<p>“I understand,” he said. </p>
<p>“No one else can know,” said Akira, quietly. “People get so...insufferable when I tell them. And I don’t want to cause problems for my future self. So...don’t tell anyone, okay?”</p>
<p>“I won’t,” said Morgana. </p>
<p>There were things that they spoke about that were never meant to be heard by anyone else. For Morgana, it was his fears of being a monster. For Akira, this was the line he was drawing in the sand. And Morgana would keep it—at any cost. He never wanted to lose Akira’s friendship again—his fallout with the group had been bad enough, but losing Akira had been by far the worst part. He couldn't let it happen. And if this was the cost...then he was more than happy to pay it. </p>
<p>And his promise seemed to relax Akira, because he managed to walk into the café without stopping this time. </p>
<p>“I-is this him?” asked Sojiro, as Akira stepped inside, staring at him incredulously. </p>
<p>Morgana felt for the Boss. He had to put up with an awful lot with them around.</p>
<p>“I could ask the same about you,” said Akira, peering at him suspiciously.</p>
<p>“Akira, this is Sojiro, Sojiro...well, you kind of know Akira,” said Futaba, introducing them. </p>
<p>“Hi,” said Sojiro. “Wow. You’ve really done it this time. Does he remember anything, or...?”</p>
<p>“No—though we’ve explained some stuff to him,” said Futaba. “Kind of had to, given he didn’t know why he was in Tokyo.”</p>
<p>“I see,” said Sojiro, sighing deeply. “Doesn’t really seem right to let a kid that age sleep in the attic all alone.”</p>
<p>“That’s what I was thinking!”</p>
<p>“Still...it’s not like your bedroom’s big enough for two people,” he sighed. “But I’m sure we’ll work it out. Needs must and all.” </p>
<p>Akira remained silent though this exchange, though Morgana could tell he still wasn’t thrilled at the concept of remaining in Tokyo. He was going to take some more persuading, it was clear. </p>
<p>“What do <em>you</em> think of all this?” asked Sojiro, turning to Akira.</p>
<p>“All what?”</p>
<p>“Well, ah, being here?” asked Sojiro, awkwardly.</p>
<p>Akira paused for a moment, clearly considering the right way to phrase his feelings about the future.</p>
<p>“I hate it.”</p>
<p>Typical.</p>
<p>“Right,” said Sojiro. “I suppose this is all a bit strange to you.”</p>
<p>Akira didn’t grace that with a reply, instead just staring at Sojiro, clearly waiting for instructions.</p>
<p>“Um, Akira doesn’t really like new places, so I thought we should introduce him to the house as soon as possible,” said Futaba, leaping to the rescue.</p>
<p>“Ah, yes, of course,” said Sojiro. He was way more confident with the older Akira. “Let’s go. I can’t be away from the café for long, but I can at least show him around.”</p>
<p>And with that they proceeded awkwardly back towards the house. Akira didn’t look any happier once he stepped inside. </p>
<p>“Me and Futaba both have a room upstairs,” said Sojiro, pointing up them, “and there’s a bathroom up there too. Down here there’s the living room at the end of the hall, and the kitchen’s through there.” He opened a door on the left, which led to a small kitchen. “And that’s about it, I think.”</p>
<p>“I can take it from here,” said Futaba.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” asked Sojiro, doubtfully. </p>
<p>“Of course I’m sure,” she insisted. “All I’ve gotta do is keep an eye on him, right?”</p>
<p>Even Morgana could have told her it was going to be more complex than that, but Sojiro didn’t seem inclined to argue. </p>
<p>“Alright, alright,” he sighed. “Just keep out of trouble. Both of you.”</p>
<p>Futaba saluted and Akira just nodded his head. Sojiro gave another put-upon sigh, then left, closing the door behind him. </p>
<p>“So,” said Futaba, quickly turning to Akira, “we’ve gotta find you a place to sleep, right?”</p>
<p>“I’ll just sleep on the floor through there,” said Akira, nodding at the door to the living room. “It’s fine.” </p>
<p>“Oh come on! You’ll at least need a blanket!”</p>
<p>“Do you <em>have</em> a blanket?”</p>
<p>“Sure! Well, we have one somewhere anyway.” </p>
<p>Akira shook his head doubtfully. Morgana couldn’t really blame him. This was all turning into a bit of a kerfuffle. </p>
<p>“Well, even if we don’t, we can always steal the one from your room,” Futaba said quickly. “It’s not like it’s being used over there right now.”</p>
<p>“Would that even work?” Akira mumbled. </p>
<p>“Stop being such a downer,” said Futaba, exasperatedly. “Honestly, you’re such a wet blanket compared to your older self.”</p>
<p>Akira glared at her but didn’t argue. Futaba seemed to realise that might have been a bit much for him. </p>
<p>“Well, skipping over the subject of where you’re gonna sleep, what do you want to do now?” </p>
<p>“Do?” asked Akira. </p>
<p>“Yeah, like, you can’t just stay cooped up in here doing nothing, even I know that. Don’t you have any hobbies or anything?” </p>
<p>Akira looked confused by the question. “Hobbies?”</p>
<p>“Um, yeah,” said Futaba, frowning at him concernedly. “Like, stuff you do for fun.” </p>
<p>Akira clearly wasn’t prepared to answer that, and Morgana suspected he knew why. If his comments about his home-life back in Itoiyama were any indication, he didn’t have time to develop any hobbies other than fishing in order to stay alive. And even if he had, he clearly had no desire to share them with anyone else. </p>
<p>“Um, Akira really likes fishing, but obviously we can’t do that in here,” said Morgana. And they’d left all the equipment back in Mota. Something Akira had only just realised, if his steely expression was any indication. </p>
<p>“Fishing?” said Futaba, staring at him. “Isn’t that kind of an old man hobby?” </p>
<p>“You try finding something else to do in Itoiyama,” muttered Akira, so quietly Futaba didn’t hear him. </p>
<p>“Well, um, do you like video games?” she asked. </p>
<p>“Can’t afford them,” said Akira, which wasn’t really an answer. </p>
<p>“Books?” </p>
<p>“Read all of them.”</p>
<p>Futaba spluttered. “What do you mean, all of them?” </p>
<p>“All the ones in our library,” said Akira, blankly. </p>
<p>“Wow,” mumbled Futaba, “either you have a really small library or you’re a crazy fast reader.” </p>
<p>“I’d say it’s six of one and half a dozen of the other,” sighed Akira.</p>
<p>“Damn, you even talk like an old man,” said Futaba, peering at him. “Well, you might not be able to afford video games, but I have loads! Want to see?” </p>
<p>“I mean...” Akira looked very hesitant. </p>
<p>“Come on!” said Futaba, grabbing him by the arm. “It’ll be fun. Besides, think of it as me paying you back.”</p>
<p>“Paying me back for what?” asked Akira, looking increasingly alarmed. </p>
<p>“Um, let’s just say the older you helped me out a while back.”</p>
<p>“I’m not—”</p>
<p>“No excuses!” cried Futaba, now hauling him up the stairs. “You’re gonna play video games with me or else!”</p>
<p>Akira very reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged upstairs. Well. At least he wouldn’t be able to run off now. </p><hr/>
<p>The train ride back to Tokyo was excruciatingly long. Made even longer by the endless rambling of the fools that surrounded him on how to handle the ‘Akira Question’, as they’d so neatly termed it. </p>
<p>“Why do you think he’s being so damned weird?” asked Ryuji. “I mean, running away from us—refusing to meet us—does he think we’re evil or something?” </p>
<p>“I don’t think so,” said Haru, her hands folded neatly in her lap. “He seemed perfectly happy to talk one-on-one. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a mild version of agoraphobia himself, you know.”</p>
<p>“What, like that thing Futaba had?” asked Ann, raising her eyebrows. “But it’s not like he’s a shut-in or anything—almost the opposite of that!” </p>
<p>“Agoraphobia isn’t just a fear of the outside,” said Makoto, tiredly. “It’s more like...a fear of new, unfamiliar or seemingly unsafe situations. Like being lost in a crowd, or going out grocery shopping alone when you usually do it with people.”</p>
<p>“He certainly appears keen to avoid the unexpected,” mused Yusuke. “After all, the first thing he did upon finding himself in Tokyo was go to a village very similar to his hometown.” </p>
<p>Agoraphobia...could that truly be the thing that was making Akira act so strangely? Somehow Goro doubted it. Well, he didn’t doubt that Akira might have a mild strain of it, that seemed perfectly obvious, but he doubted it was the root cause of his overall behaviour. His attempts to avoid them exceeded those of a typical agoraphobe, and his complete shut-down in the face of Goro attempting to talk to him when they were out by the cliffs suggested to him something else entirely. Not to mention his intensity—for a child that age to almost manifest a Persona so easily...he was angry about something, but what? </p>
<p>“Oh, Futaba says they’ve made it back to Sojiro’s!” said Ann, peering at her phone. </p>
<p>Goro quickly pulled out his own. </p>
<p>
  <em>15:30</em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: Finally back at Sojiro’s -_-</em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: Akira’s still sulking. </em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: Trying to get him to play video games atm.</em><br/>
<em>15:31</em><br/>
<em>Ann Takamaki: Is he enjoying it?</em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: Hard to say</em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: He’s super focused</em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: But it’s difficult to get a good read on him tbh. </em><br/>
<em>Yusuke Kitagawa: Doesn’t focus usually denote enjoyment?</em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: Well usually yeah!</em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: But his little face is blank as a sheet, I’m telling you.</em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: It’s kind of freaking me out a bit.</em><br/>
<em>Ryuji Sakamato: Lmao, now you know how you look to us when you’re super focused on something. </em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: Oh come on! I’m not that bad! </em><br/>
<em>Makoto Niijima: You can get very lost in the moment sometimes. </em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: What is this, Dunk on Futaba Day?</em><br/>
<em>Futaba Sakura: Geez guess I'll go back to watching Kid Creepy<br/>
</em>
</p>
<p>And with that, she appeared to stop responding to text messages. </p>
<p>“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing she’s managed to get him to do something relatively normal,” sighed Makoto. </p>
<p>“Yeah, Akira seems like kind of a weird kid,” said Ann. </p>
<p>More like a traumatised one. But there was no need to bring that up. </p>
<p>“What’s wrong, Haru?” asked Makoto, and Goro turned to look at her. She was frowning quite deeply. </p>
<p>“Obviously it’s fine since Futaba and Morgana are going to stick with him, but, I was just thinking that he probably won’t want to see any of us for the rest of the time he’s stuck as a child. We may have to simply put our plans on hold until he changes back.”</p>
<p>“We have no idea when that might be,” sighed Makoto. “This is...certainly troubling, to say the least.”</p>
<p>“Is your sister close to discovering us, Makoto?” asked Yusuke, frowning deeply. </p>
<p>“I don’t know,” said Makoto, shaking her head. “But if things continue at this pitch...I’m sure the police will discover our identities eventually. It wouldn’t be hard, especially now they’ve worked out some of us go to Shujin.” </p>
<p>Makoto was right. Even without his intervention, the police, incompetent though they were, would try to expend all their resources catching such well-known criminals, and it really wouldn’t take too much for them to put together that this odd group were truly the Phantom Thieves. Still. It really wouldn’t feel right to leave this entire matter up to the police, not when it was so integral to getting into Shido’s good graces...</p>
<p>“Damn it!” cried Ryuji. “We can’t just give up over this—I’m sure Akira will turn back in time—there’s no way that thing’s permanent.”</p>
<p>At this point it was their only hope. </p>
<p>“I’m sure you’re right,” said Makoto. “Still, it’s unnerving having to wait. But for now we have no choice.” </p>
<p>“And we don’t even get to talk to Akira while he’s like this,” sighed Ann. </p>
<p>“It may be for the best,” said Goro. “He appears to be quite a nervous child. It would hardly help us to scare him any further.” </p>
<p>“That’s true,” murmured Yusuke. “Hopefully Futaba should keep us updated, in any case.” </p>
<p>She most likely would. And while all of them were playing the waiting game, Goro had other, more important business to attend to. He’d been neglecting his contracts lately—spending too much time trying to integrate with the Thieves. </p>
<p>But that was going to change tonight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Child Akira: *throughout this entire chapter*: Listen, just because I'm stuck in the future doesn't mean I have to pretend to be happy about it.</p>
<p>Well, Akira's finally back in Tokyo, but will that turn out to be a good thing? We can only wait and see. At least the video games will keep him busy. Depending on how long he can tolerate Futaba beating him, that is!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Imprisoned</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Night-time was the worst time of day, in Akira’s opinion. The time when you were most vulnerable to the world, dreaming of other things. </p>
<p>He was used to going to sleep alone, being forced to trust in the fact the doors to his house were solid and locked, and the windows weren’t easily broken though. They were his only defence, since, as a small child, there was little he could do if someone did decide to break in. And there would be no one else in the house to save him. So he needed to stay alert, even in dreams. </p>
<p>And he had terrible dreams. </p>
<p>He had the very strong feeling he’d have one of those dreams tonight. He could almost feel them coming on—they created a certain fuzziness in his mind, a kind of fog, that would bury him and cause him to wake into that strange nightmare. He didn’t want it to happen. But he knew he couldn’t stay awake forever. </p>
<p>Morgana was curled up at the foot of the blanket they’d stretched out over the floor. Akira had a feeling he was still awake too—almost as if he could sense that Akira hadn’t been able to get to sleep. How tiresome. </p>
<p>He rubbed his eyes and rolled onto his back, staring up at the blank plaster ceiling. Moonlight shone in through the thin curtains over the windows. It was cold. Not dissimilar to his own room, in fact. </p>
<p>His eyes were sore with tiredness, but he didn’t dare close them. He didn’t want the dream. He didn’t want to risk it. </p>
<p>And yet...he was so <em>exhausted.</em></p>
<p>He closed his eyes—just for a second—just to try and alleviate some of the pain... It was dark. And his thoughts were growing slower...and further apart...until...</p>
<p>Akira’s eyes flew open. But he was no longer in Sojiro’s living room. Nor was he on the train—the usual destination of choice in his nightmares. No. He was...in a cell? He could see from where he was lying that there were bars on the door. What had he done to deserve to be locked up in here? </p>
<p>He sprang up off the cold slab of stone that passed for a bed, and rushed up to the bars, noticing suddenly that he was in prison clothes...incredibly baggy prison clothes. Around his ankle there was a ball and chain, but the cuff was loose, and with a light shake it slipped from his foot, rendering him free. He walked up to the barred door, and gave it a push. It swung open. How odd.</p>
<p>He wandered into the room beyond—there were cells arranged in a circle around it, but it appeared to be an office of some description. </p>
<p>Well. There was a desk. And a rug. That was about all it needed to qualify as an office in Akira’s opinion. </p>
<p>But there was nobody there. </p>
<p>He circled around to the front of the desk, and curiously pulled one of the drawers open. Inside was a sheaf of plain white paper, and a quick flick through told him none of the pages had been drawn or written on. He closed the drawer and peered at the paper actually on the desk. Also blank. But there was a pen sitting in the ink pot, all ready to write. How odd. </p>
<p>He searched methodically through the other drawers, but found nothing worth noting in them. </p>
<p>How strange all of this was. Was this the final destination of the train? The depths of some peculiar prison? He wasn’t trapped inside himself though, so that was something. </p>
<p>Now he thought about it, this place reminded him strangely of the Metaverse. Perhaps that was why he wasn’t imprisoned? Because he didn’t <em>think</em> he was... Could that be right? </p>
<p>The prison complex was cold—almost as cold as the living room back in the real world. He wrapped his arms around himself, the baggy prison clothes doing little to stave off the chill. He needed to keep moving, but where? </p>
<p>He took another look around the complex. </p>
<p>Hmm. There appeared to be an empty cell just behind him. And at the end was...a door? He wandered over to it, and tried to push it open. It didn’t seem to be budging. </p>
<p>Well, if this place <em>was</em> like the Metaverse... He braced his shoulder against the cold iron, the chill seeming to lance down to his bones, and pushed against the door with all his strength. Slowly, incredibly slowly, it began to inch open, the door grinding against the floor. </p>
<p>Once the gap was big enough for him to squeeze through, he darted through, into the next room.</p>
<p>Another room another prison complex, it seemed. Though this one appeared a bit bigger than the one before. Before him extended an immense staircase—so tall he didn’t really want to try and climb it after expending all his energy trying to shove the door open. Long corridors extended out to the left and right. He might as well see what was down them. Anything to stave off the cold.</p>
<p>He decided to go left first. The corridor was long and grim, with minimal lighting, and empty cells all around. So many cells, and yet, no one in them. No one but him, it seemed. He wished he had some warmer clothes...maybe if he kept looking he’d find some...</p>
<p>He was coming up on the end of the corridor. Still no sign of warmer clothes. Drat. He kept walking though, aware that if he turned back now he’d inevitably miss the one cell with clothes in. But as he walked past the final cell, it did not contain clothes. It instead contained someone...very familiar.</p>
<p>“Futaba?” he asked, as he wandered over. </p>
<p>He wouldn’t have spoken to her normally, not after she’d beaten him so soundly in that final game, but she looked...sad. Not to mention she was locked up—and he was quite sure she hadn’t done anything to deserve that. </p>
<p>She looked up at him as he approached, but her eyes were blank. She didn’t seem to fully recognise him. </p>
<p>“Oh, it’s you,” she said in a dull monotone. “The irritating Akira.”</p>
<p>“Irritating?” asked Akira, scowling. </p>
<p>“The older you isn’t half so much trouble,” she sighed. “And he doesn’t sulk when I beat him at video games.”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t sulking,” said Akira, defensively. “And besides—that doesn’t matter. What are you doing here? Why are you all locked up?” </p>
<p>“Locked up?” asked Futaba, looking at him without recognition. “I’m not locked up.”</p>
<p>“You’re in a prison cell,” said Akira, pointing to the bars. “Are you okay? Is this...” A nasty thought occurred to him. “Is any of this real?”</p>
<p>“Real?” asked Futaba. “Of course it’s real...I think.” </p>
<p>“Then why are you just sitting there doing nothing?” asked Akira, getting frustrated. “Don’t you want to escape?” </p>
<p>“Hey!” cried Futaba, springing to her feet. “I <em>have</em> escaped! None of this matters to me anymore!”</p>
<p>She stepped up to the bars and rattled them, as though trying to get them to spring open. But they did not. </p>
<p>“Hey...” she said again, more quietly this time. “What’s this?” </p>
<p>“Can’t you open it?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>That was how it had worked for him, after all. And she definitely seemed to have the conviction she could escape so...why wasn’t she? </p>
<p>“I can’t,” she said quietly. “I guess I’m more trapped than I thought.”</p>
<p>Trapped, trapped—he was sure he’d heard something like that relating to Futaba before... </p>
<p>She gave a deep sigh. “I guess it’s a bit much for me thinking I could save people when I couldn’t leave my own room for so long.”</p>
<p>Agoraphobia—that was it. </p>
<p>“But you <em>can</em> leave now,” said Akira, as gently as he could. “You came all the way out of Tokyo to come and get me, remember?” </p>
<p>“Yeah but...” She sighed again, and gave him a strangely sad look. “That was for you, y’know? I love you Akira, but sometimes I think I rely on you too much. It’s one thing to feel happy with you, but it’s another to be happy on my own.” </p>
<p>Akira was pretty sure his cheeks were on fire. Did his older self really mean that much to Futaba? Was that why she’d been so depressed when it was him who showed up initially? </p>
<p>“I don’t...understand...” he said. </p>
<p>Futaba looked at him again, this time with a bit less misery. “I guess you really don’t, huh? You’re really different to how I expected, you know? I thought that Akira would be a really shy, bookish little kid, but you just seem...angry. And sad.” </p>
<p>“I was <em>angry</em> because you people kept following me everywhere,” said Akira, sharply. “And I’m not sad.” </p>
<p>“You are,” said Futaba, peering at him through her thick glasses. “I’m not sure what about though.”</p>
<p>“Don’t tell me how I feel.”</p>
<p>“Okay.” She shrugged and went back to sitting on the floor, facing the wall. </p>
<p>“You’re really...not going to try to escape?” asked Akira tentatively. </p>
<p>“No,” said Futaba. “I don’t think there’s any point. Not right now, anyway.”</p>
<p>“If not now, then when?” </p>
<p>“It’s important we stay quiet for now,” said Futaba, not looking at him. “Until the plan’s all done with.”</p>
<p>“The plan for me to die?” </p>
<p>“Yes.” </p>
<p>The one he was intent on thwarting. He crouched down, level with Futaba where she sat on the floor. “But what if we got rid of the one controlling Akechi? Wouldn’t that be easier?” </p>
<p>“We don’t know who it is,” said Futaba. “And besides, he’s already made up his mind. We’re just doing damage control right now.”</p>
<p>“I guess,” sighed Akira. He looked behind him, at another empty cell. “I suppose none of this is really real anyway. You won’t remember it in the morning.”</p>
<p>“Pretty much,” Futaba agreed. “I end up here sometimes, but I never remember when I’m awake. Don’t think I’ve seen you here before though.”</p>
<p>Akira thought back to the room he’d woken up in, the prison cell. These clothes were too baggy, the ankle chain too loose. But they’d fit an older person. So perhaps that was why...</p>
<p>“See you in the morning,” he said, deciding he should really look around more of this place before leaping to conclusions. </p>
<p>“See you,” said Futaba. </p>
<p>He hurried back along the corridor, eager to escape the odd, almost puppet-like version of Futaba. Were his older self’s other friends here? Did he know? </p>
<p>There was a gap in the wall as he hurried away, one that seemed to lead to more cells. Only one way to find out. He jogged down it, keen to keep his blood pumping, keen not to let the fear take over. What was this strange place—so similar to the Metaverse, and yet so eerie—so menacing? At the end there was another cell. And within was—</p>
<p>“Hey, Akira? Is that you?” </p>
<p>A blond boy stared at him through the bars, much more awake than Futaba had been.</p>
<p>“I’m Akira,” he said stepping forward. “Who are you, exactly?”</p>
<p>“What? You seriously don’t remember me?” the boy asked, apparently quite distressed by this information. </p>
<p>“I have no idea who you are,” said Akira, shrugging.</p>
<p>“Ice-cold,” winced the boy. Then he brightened a little. “Though that’s totally what he would say in this situation—so I guess you two aren’t actually that different.” </p>
<p>“You mean my older self?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>“That’s right!” said the boy, grinning. “I’m Ryuji Sakamato, by the way.”</p>
<p>“Ryuji...” murmured Akira. He was pretty sure that was one of the names Morgana had mentioned. </p>
<p>“Don’t you forget it!” said Ryuji. “And we’re best buddies, so it would be totally rude if you did.”</p>
<p>Hmm. Akira thought strongly about correcting him on that notion, but he decided against. He wanted to ask this Ryuji a few things, and that would be easier if Akira was nice to him.</p>
<p>“So, how did you get to be here?” he asked. </p>
<p>“What, you mean part of the Phantom Thieves?” asked Ryuji. He seemed to be far less aware of his imprisonment than Futaba. Or perhaps he just didn’t care about it? That was an option too... </p>
<p>“Well, there was this horrible teacher at our school—physically abusing his students and hitting on Ann in a totally disgusting way—so we all banded together to take him out in the Metaverse,” said Ryuji, peering at him. “It worked and we just...kind of kept going, I guess.”</p>
<p>Huh. It seemed his older self really had started out with noble intentions. He’d wondered...</p>
<p>“But now you’re wanted by the police,” mused Akira.</p>
<p>“Ugh, only because that bastard Akechi set us up,” Ryuji grumbled. “If not for him we’d still be totally fine!” </p>
<p>Akira couldn’t help but doubt that. If they’d managed to gain that much publicity in so short a time—positive or negative—it could hardly have ended well for them. Anyone having that much power was kind of scary. If he’d had access to the Metaverse, he’d have kept as hidden as possible...wouldn’t he? </p>
<p>Again, thoughts of the other Akira, the older Akira, haunted him. Who was he? Why had he done this? Why was he so familiar, and yet so foreign? Akira felt like he knew what the older Akira was like quite well by now, but he seemed a fully formed person—one entirely separate from who Akira was now. </p>
<p>He had friends, which Akira had never had, he had fame, which Akira had never wanted. He was smart, but he hid it. He was reckless, but others accepted it. He was the leader of the Phantom Thieves, but none of them seemed to know quite what he was thinking. And he didn’t talk about his past, because none of them recognised him as he was now. They all mentioned how strange he was, how uncanny, how <em>different.</em> It was...kind of horrible, in a way. Like Akira had tried to hide him away. Like he was ashamed. </p>
<p>In a way, he supposed that made sense. Most people pretended he never existed. He supposed he shouldn’t have expected any different from himself.</p>
<p>“Hey,” said Ryuji, and his voice was suddenly a lot softer. “Is there anything we can do?”</p>
<p>“About what?” sighed Akira, forcing himself out of his thoughts and back into reality. </p>
<p>“I dunno,” said Ryuji, honestly. “You just looked so sad staring off into the distance like that. We just wanna help, you know?” </p>
<p>“I’m not sad,” Akira sighed, frustrated. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”</p>
<p>“I guess it’s something in your face,” said Ryuji, shrugging. “Anyway, we’re here if you need us.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” said Akira.</p>
<p>He wouldn’t. </p>
<hr/>
<p>The next prisoner he found was the tall, intimidating girl he’d seen when he first arrived in this world. She didn’t see him either, instead staring deep into her cell, unfocused. </p>
<p>He’d decided he’d try and find all of the Phantom Thieves trapped within the prison. If he could help even one of them escape, then maybe he might find out more about this place. </p>
<p>“Hey,” he said, wandering up to the bars. </p>
<p>She didn’t look up. </p>
<p>“Hello Akira,” she said quietly. Then she turned to look at him, peering at him curiously from where she was leaning against the wall. “It is still you, isn’t it?” </p>
<p>“I guess,” said Akira. He wasn’t sure quite <em>who</em> he was anymore. “Who are you?” </p>
<p>She sighed. “I’m Makoto, Makoto Niijima? Student council president?” </p>
<p>Hmm. That did seem to fit with her no-nonsense personality. But still... “I didn’t expect a student council president to be involved with all this.” </p>
<p>Makoto gave a cold, dry laugh. “I imagine Sis would say the same, if she knew. What are we going to do now? We can’t change her heart...and we’re running out of time.” </p>
<p>“The lawyer’s your sister?” asked Akira. How hadn’t this come up before? </p>
<p>“She’s a public prosecutor,” said Makoto. “And she’s trying to hunt us down, even as we speak. She doesn’t suspect I’m part of the Phantom Thieves, but it’s only a matter of time. All we had was your plan, and now...”</p>
<p>“We have to find the one who <em>caused</em> all this,” said Akira, forcefully. Makoto sounded like she knew enough to be persuaded. “Isn’t that the only way? If we can find out who’s telling Akechi to do all these things—if we destroy them—it’ll put an end to all of it, won’t it?” </p>
<p>Makoto’s eyes widened, and she stared at him as though seeing him for the first time. “Do you...really think that?” </p>
<p>“Of course,” said Akira. “He’s working for someone, to help them—there’s no way he’s decided to do all this on his own. And if we take them out, he won’t be a threat anymore—it just makes sense!” </p>
<p>“You...might have a point,” said Makoto quietly. “But how would we figure it out? We’d need secret information, hidden information...”</p>
<p>Akira couldn’t contradict her on that—it was the same block he’d run into. </p>
<p>She gave another sigh. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Hopefully you’ll change back soon.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” said Akira quietly. </p>
<p>Like he’d thought before—all they wanted was the older him. Everything they’d planned rested on him, but now he was gone, and all they had was Akira as a miserable replacement. Still, he couldn’t just stew here in resentment—and it wasn’t like his idea was a total bust either—he just needed more information. And to get more information, he needed to talk to more of the Phantom Thieves.</p>
<p>“See you around,” he said, as he turned to leave.</p>
<p>Makoto nodded, but didn’t reply. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Next was a tall, thin boy, with blue hair. He noticed Akira too. </p>
<p>“Oh, hello Akira,” he said. “Nice seeing you at last.”</p>
<p>Huh. He seemed to be the only one who’d been happy to see him so far. </p>
<p>“What’s your name?” he asked, hopping from foot to foot, trying to ward off the chill. </p>
<p>“Yusuke Kitagawa,” he said. “That’s quite an odd get-up you’re wearing, if you don’t mind me saying so.”</p>
<p>Yusuke seemed to be the most aware of the Phantom Thieves so far. Some of them didn’t even seem to realise he was no longer his older self—so that was something, at least. </p>
<p>“I didn’t choose it,” said Akira. “What are you doing here, by the way?”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure,” said Yusuke. “I think this is a dream. I can never remember when I wake up—but it feels more real than your average dream.”</p>
<p>“Is it because you’re a Phantom Thief?” After all, they seemed to be the only ones trapped within. </p>
<p>“Perhaps,” said Yusuke. “I certainly never had dreams like this before I joined the group.”</p>
<p>Lucky him. Akira had been dealing with this—or something very similar—for as long as he could remember. And he didn’t have the luxury of forgetting when he woke up either. </p>
<p>“What did you do before you joined?” asked Akira, keen to get more information. </p>
<p>“Oh, I haven’t properly introduced myself, have I?” said Yusuke, with a smile. “I’m an artist—or an aspiring one, anyway. I used to work as a pupil of Madarame, before he was targeted by the Phantom Thieves.” </p>
<p>Interesting. He wasn’t sure he’d yet met a member of the group who hadn’t had someone in their lives targeted for causing them misery...except Futaba. Was that really how they’d all met? Maybe it was why they were such close friends—courage through adversity, and all that...</p>
<p>“What was he doing?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>“Plagiarising his students’ work, and making a mockery of the art world,” said Yusuke, stiffly.</p>
<p>“Including yours?”</p>
<p>“That is correct.”</p>
<p>“Did you let him?” asked Akira. </p>
<p>Yusuke was quiet for a bit at that question.</p>
<p>“I only ask because it’s pretty difficult to plagiarise someone you’re working with so closely without them knowing,” said Akira, hoping it wouldn’t upset him. </p>
<p>“I knew,” said Yusuke, quietly. “I let him. I had...endured it so long I ceased to see anything wrong with it. I fought you fiercely when you first attempted to persuade me, you know. I’m afraid I caused you an awful lot of trouble.” </p>
<p>Endurance... He knew what that felt like, though he hated to admit it. Almost his entire life had been one long endurance test so far. Perhaps that was why his older self was so different. He no longer had to fight just to survive... Akira could barely imagine it. Yusuke though—he must understand a little, at least.</p>
<p>“No,” said Akira. “It must have been hard to come to that realisation. A lot of people never do, as I understand.” He thought of Mrs Hagiwara back home, of the bruises she had on her face when she walked into class, of the shouting he always heard from her apartment. He never wanted to end up like that. “It was...brave. And now you’re helping other people too.”</p>
<p>Yusuke beamed at him. “You always seem to know just what to say, Akira. I’m a bit envious.”</p>
<p>Akira blushed. “I’m just saying what I think.”</p>
<p>“And you have my thanks for that. You’re very wise for your age—I suppose you always have been.” </p>
<p>The more things changed the more they stayed the same. Still, he was glad people saw some similarities between him and his older self. Even if he wasn’t quite sure they were accurate. </p>
<p>“Thanks,” he said. </p>
<p>“I see you around, Akira,” said Yusuke. “Hopefully in the real world, some time.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps,” said Akira. </p>
<p>He wasn’t sure he was up to meeting so many people in the real world just yet. But if it was just one at a time, he supposed he could try...</p>
<hr/>
<p>The next person he saw was thankfully a familiar face. </p>
<p>“Haru?” he asked, hurrying up to the bars. She seemed a bit more awake too. </p>
<p>“Akira!” she cried, beaming down at him. “How on earth did you get to be here? I never see anyone else around here usually.”</p>
<p>“Have you been coming here long?” asked Akira. He wanted to see if his theory was right…</p>
<p>“Not really,” said Haru, a little sheepishly. “Only since...”</p>
<p>She trailed off, a sad expression crossing her face. Akira remembered the news article he read. Kunikazu Okumura. Haru Okumura. Which meant... “Did the Phantom Thieves...target your dad?” </p>
<p>“They did,” she sighed. “And I helped them.” </p>
<p>“Those things people said about his business—they were true, then?” </p>
<p>“They were,” she said, nodding. “I tried for so long to avert my eyes, but...I just couldn’t do it anymore and I—” </p>
<p>She cut herself off, blinking fiercely, clearly trying to hold back tears. Akira wanted to tell her it was fine, that she could cry, that he wouldn’t say anything about it. But he had a feeling he knew she’d brush it off. That was what he would do, after all.</p>
<p>She took a deep breath before speaking again. “Sorry, I’m still upset, I suppose. It’s been so strange these last few months, with the funeral and everything else. I’d been so caught up in mourning him I think I almost forgot...forgot everything he’d done...”</p>
<p>It sounded like Haru had had a rough time of it, between having a hateful father and then no father at all. It was complicated when your parents were despicable people, but you had known them before they went so wrong. Almost as complicated as when you hardly had parents at all.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?” asked Haru, softly. “I’m sorry if what I said upset you.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s fine,” said Akira, shaking his head. “It’s...amazing you can still do all this, so soon after him dying.”</p>
<p>Haru nodded. “I feel bad for worrying everyone but...I have to do this.” Her expression became deadly serious. “After all, it’s the only way we can outsmart the one who killed him.” </p>
<p>Akira suddenly felt the pieces fall into place in his mind—why Haru had been so strained back then. </p>
<p>“Akechi did it, didn’t he?” </p>
<p>“That’s what they all say,” she said. She sighed deeply. “I hated my father towards the end but...I still loved him. I wanted him to realise all he’d done, to finally face me and...apologise for everything, for trying to do that to me...but... But...”</p>
<p>“He never got the chance,” Akira finished quietly.</p>
<p>Haru nodded mutely, trying to hide the tears now falling down her cheeks. </p>
<p>Akira almost felt jealous, in a strange, detached sort of way. At least Haru and her father had...something. Perhaps it was wrong for him to think that. But he did. </p>
<p>“I won’t let Akechi kill me, you know that, right?” he said quietly. “I don’t care what I have to do. I refuse to die here.”</p>
<p>“You’d better not,” said Haru, and her tone was joking, but her eyes were not. “If he killed you, Akira...”</p>
<p>“He won’t.” </p>
<p>She gave him a wry smile, then nodded. “I understand. You’re very brave, you know.”</p>
<p>“I’m self-centred,” said Akira, smiling back. “But I understand how they might look the same.”</p>
<p>“Take care out there, Akira,” said Haru, sensing he was about to walk away. “It’s dangerous. Even in here.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>It was only a short walk to the final cell. A blond girl sat within, her hair tied back in pigtails. She noticed him approach, but didn’t say anything until he was close enough to hear.</p>
<p>“Are you Akira?” she asked, squinting at him. “It’s hard to tell...”</p>
<p>“I think so,” said Akira. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”</p>
<p>“That’s a weird answer,” said the girl, wrinkling her nose. “Oh, I guess you wouldn’t know who I am, right? I’m Ann Takamaki—we’re in the same class.”</p>
<p>Ah. Ryuji had mentioned an Ann. </p>
<p>“You joined because of that horrible teacher, right?”</p>
<p>Ann gave a heavy sigh. “Yeah, Kamoshida… He was a disgusting man.” She suddenly seemed to realise that she looked miserable and quickly made a conscious effort to smile, to hide how she was truly feeling. “But hey, he’s in prison now, so why worry about it? Plus I got to meet you guys!”</p>
<p>Ann seemed reluctant to talk about her experience with horrible teacher who’d caused her to join…which probably made sense, if what Ryuji had said about him hitting on her was true. So he’d go with a different conversation topic.</p>
<p>“Were you two the first to join?” asked Akira. “You and Ryuji, I mean.”</p>
<p>“That’s right!” said Ann, brightly. “The OG Phantom Thieves! The rest joined later.” </p>
<p>“When did Morgana show up?” </p>
<p>“Dunno,” said Ann. “I think he’s been here pretty much from the start. You and Ryuji already knew him by the time I found out about the Metaverse.”</p>
<p>“So it all happened in stages,” said Akira, more to himself than Ann. “First me and Ryuji, then you...” </p>
<p>“Then Yusuke, then Makoto, then Futaba, then Haru and now...well. I’m not sure if we’re counting Akechi. And he’s been in the Metaverse way longer than us anyway.” </p>
<p>“How long’s he known about this place?” asked Akira. He hadn’t heard that before—only that Akechi was trying to kill them. Though he supposed it made sense, if he’d been causing mental shutdowns all this time as well.</p>
<p>“Good question,” said Ann, sheepishly. “Though I guess...the mental shutdowns and psychotic breaks have been happening for almost two years now.”</p>
<p>That was...interesting. </p>
<p>“He must have been pretty young when he first got in.”</p>
<p>Ann shrugged. “Probably around Futaba’s age,” she agreed. “Pretty crazy that a fifteen year old would just go in and start killing people.” </p>
<p>“Have you ever <em>met</em> a fifteen year old?” </p>
<p>Ann chuckled. “I guess you have a good point. There are some nutcases in the year below, from what I hear. Though...most point to us as the problem year at our school. Which is totally unfair because it was all because of Kamoshida but...I guess that’s just life, isn’t it?” She reached out and gave the bars of her cell a brief shake. “Trapped in here by society.” </p>
<p>“Is that what these things are?” asked Akira, reaching out to the cell himself. “They represent...society?”</p>
<p>“That’s what I’d always figured,” said Ann, with a shrug. “This place is weird, and it doesn’t make much sense, but that always seemed pretty obvious to me.”</p>
<p>But that was...odd. His older self had definitely been trapped in a cell back there, but <em>he</em> wasn’t. But his older self had a Persona, which Morgana had said was a rebellion against society, so it didn’t make sense for him to see himself as all caged up. Meanwhile Akira, who lacked a Persona, could walk around this place freely. Strange. Could Morgana be wrong? </p>
<p>After all, all the others here had Personas too, and yet they were also trapped within. And in what looked to be a high-security area too. </p>
<p>But perhaps that was the whole point? </p>
<p>Up until now, Akira had felt no need to rebel. And you couldn’t rebel unless you felt trapped. So perhaps it all fed into itself. Rebellion was freedom—but only if you believed you were constrained. </p>
<p>This was all so strange. </p>
<p>“Thinking about something?” asked Ann, drawing him from his thoughts.</p>
<p>“Something,” Akira agreed. “Something strange...though I suppose it doesn’t matter.”</p>
<p>“Everything’s strange down here if you ask me,” said Ann, with a shrug. “Anyway, be seeing you around, Akira...if you want to see us, anyway.”</p>
<p>“Maybe,” said Akira. It helped that he more or less knew who they were now. Still. He wasn’t exactly prepared to meet them all as a group yet. That would be way too much. “See you some other time.”</p>
<p>She waved at him as he left, making his way back to the front of the complex—to the stairs. No avoiding it now. This seemed to be the only way out, and there was no one coming with him. He began to ascend the stairs.</p>
<p>The rock beneath his feet was hard and unforgiving, and the bagginess of his trousers weighed him down, made him trip over his own feet as he climbed and climbed. The closer he got the more his legs seemed to feel heavy, and the harder it got to keep putting one foot in front of the other, one step at a time. But he had to do this. He had to see what was at the top.</p>
<p>Eventually he was on his knees, forcing his hands forwards, forcing his body to cooperate as he dragged himself upwards—relentlessly upwards. Why was he so tired? He had so much left to do here. So much left to see...</p>
<p>He put one more hand forward, pushed down on it. It collapsed beneath him. </p>
<p>The last thing he was aware of before he lost consciousness, was a small, light voice, whispering in his ear, and a sound like the flapping of a butterfly’s wings. </p>
<p>“Akira...”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Child Akira: Well if <em>I</em> found myself imprisoned in a strange mental world, I’d simply <em>not</em> feel constrained by society due to youth and (relative) innocence. RIP to my older self, but I’m different.</p>
<p>I bet you guys were wondering how Yalby would take all this huh? Well, the answer is...he isn't. Or rather, he understands that Kid!Akira would not have the same view of the Velvet Room Teenage!Akira does, but he can't be arsed to change it all around for a ten-year-old who's probably gonna disappear soon anyway, so he's just tuned out of there until the useful Akira shows up again. After all, it's not like Kid!Akira's a threat when he doesn't even have a Persona...right?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Scrambling for Higher Ground</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was still dark outside. Which made sense, since it was apparently November. But it didn’t make Akira any less depressed when he pulled out his phone to check the time and discovered it was already six o’clock in the morning. It ought to be light by six o’clock, regardless of the time of year, in Akira’s opinion. He couldn’t be doing with all this darkness. What a pain. </p>
<p>He clambered out of his blanket cocoon, careful not to wake Morgana, and stumbled into the kitchen. Six o’clock meant breakfast time. He opened the cupboards, but the only things they seemed to contain were various kinds of soup. Not at all appropriate breakfast material. He went to check the fridge, but similarly found nothing digestible. </p>
<p>Ugh. He needed to go shopping, it seemed. And he was already down a fair amount of money... He tried to remind himself that, as he wasn’t likely to spend that much time in the past, it probably didn’t matter, but still...he hated spending the stuff. It always made him nervous. Equally though, he still needed to eat. </p>
<p>“What are you doing up?” asked Morgana, with a yawn, trotting up to his heels. “You can’t go to school looking like that, y’know?”</p>
<p>Oh, he knew. </p>
<p>“We’re going shopping,” said Akira. </p>
<p>“What, this early?” asked Morgana, his tail fluffing out slightly. </p>
<p>“Yep.”</p>
<p>Akira quickly went to retrieve his coat from where it was hanging by the door, then slipped on his shoes, making sure his wallet was still in his pocket. It was. </p>
<p>“Is this really a good idea?” asked Morgana, following him as he opened the door and ventured out into the early morning.</p>
<p>“I won’t be able to eat otherwise,” said Akira, looking up and down the street, trying to remember where he’d seen the convenience store before. “Besides, I need to know the layout of this place.”</p>
<p>“I guess that’s true,” muttered Morgana, sticking close to his heels. </p>
<p>Eventually Akira concluded it was right, then left, and quickly discovered he was correct, as he padded down the street, his eyes alighting on the convenience store. He had to say, this neighbourhood was a lot more tolerable in the early hours of the morning than it was in the middle of the day. Barely anyone was around, and that was how it suited him. </p>
<p>He wandered up to the store. </p>
<p>“I’ll wait outside,” said Morgana, as Akira went through the sliding doors. </p>
<p>The place wasn’t much bigger than the one back home, and Akira found himself appreciating that he must be in one of Tokyo’s quieter districts—or quieter side-streets—whichever was right. The food seemed to be about the same as back home though, so he grabbed a box of cereal and some fruit. The cereal should last some time, and the fruit was just to keep him going through the day. They must have some more actually edible food in the house somewhere, but Akira hadn’t seen it, so he’d have to look more thoroughly later. </p>
<p>He hurried over to the counter and the clerk wrapped up his goods without any awkward questions. Thank goodness. It was amazing the things adults could ignore when they put their minds to it. Akira almost envied them. </p>
<p>Then he was out of the store and back into the wider world. </p>
<p>“Do you have what you need?” asked Morgana, keeping him close company. </p>
<p>“I do,” said Akira. </p>
<p>The sun was just beginning to rise, bathing the streets in a pale grey glow. The sounds of the city still buzzed outside, but they were quieter than they had been back int the centre of the city. It was...calm. For now.</p>
<p>“What are you planning to do today?” asked Morgana. </p>
<p>It was a decent question. There were plenty of things Akira wanted to do—explore the Metaverse some more—try and find an answer about this mysterious question of how to get a Persona, try again to work out who had ordered his death. None of them were things Morgana would approve of. The cat dogged his every step. If he wanted real scope to explore on his own, he’d have to lose him somehow, and that was going to be difficult at best, impossible at worst. </p>
<p>He hadn’t bothered him during the night though...so that might be his best chance. And then there was his dream to think about... But that was perhaps too much all at once. For now he had to give Morgana an answer. </p>
<p>“I’m going to look around,” he said. </p>
<p>“Look around?” asked Morgana.</p>
<p>“I was too preoccupied to see anything yesterday,” said Akira, nodding. “I wanted to know where I was staying first. But now I have time to look around a bit more—it’ll be best if I have a decent idea of where I am and the major areas in Tokyo are.” </p>
<p>“I...suppose that’s a good idea,” said Morgana, slowly. “But me and Futaba should come with you. We know the city better, after all.”</p>
<p>“Sure,” said Akira. </p>
<p>He knew full well Morgana would never agree to let him go on his own, and he’d seen yesterday that Futaba was of the focused, yet easily distracted sort. So, if those two were preoccupied with each other, he’d easily be able to slip away from them at some point and focus on his real goal—working out more about the Metaverse. That was the plan, anyway. Now he just had to see if it would work. After he’d had breakfast, that was. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Once he got back to the house, it didn’t exactly take him long to wolf down a bowl of cereal, soothing some of the gnawing pain that had been growing in his stomach. He quickly washed the bowl up, then dried it and returned it to its place in the cupboard. </p>
<p>Once he was done, he pulled out his phone, and typed in the words ‘Phantom Thieves’ into his browser, to see what came up. One of the first results was something called the ‘Phantom Aficionado Website’ which appeared to be a fansite of some kind. It was unlikely that would tell him anything he didn’t already know. What was more interesting however, was the series of articles that had appeared underneath—all news articles from various different newspapers, but all talking about the same thing: a speech given by a one Masayoshi Shido, condemning their group. </p>
<p>He clicked on one of the links out of curiosity. </p>
<p>The header at the top of the page revealed this Shido to be the man in ugly glasses Akira had observed on the TV network page the other day. And now there were a lot of news articles about him too. Interesting.</p>
<p>It became more interesting still when Akira noticed Akechi’s name mentioned in the article too. It positioned him and Shido as two of the most outspoken people with regards to criticising the Phantom Thieves—though it mentioned Akechi had been limiting his time on television of late. Meanwhile, the politician Shido had gained unforeseen popularity due to his criticisms of the rogue group, urging the government to take action. </p>
<p>Very, very interesting.</p>
<p>Akira clicked out of that article and examined a few more from various news sites. The same two names kept coming up in conjunction: Shido and Akechi. The vindicated critics of the Phantom Thief movement, their popularity soaring in the wake of the Phantom Thieves’ sudden downfall. A downfall engineered expressly by Akechi himself.</p>
<p>Could the two of them really be unrelated? For their names to be mentioned in conjunction so many times... And Shido clearly and directly benefited from the course Akechi was pursuing. Even his plan to capture and kill his older self—if the public approved of his death then everyone would know Shido had urged it. If they disapproved then the police and the current government would be to blame. It was the perfect set-up. </p>
<p>The Phantom Thieves would be vanquished, and those two could sweep in to claim all the glory. And if Shido <em>was</em> the one ordering all the killings, well—a politician <em>would</em> have contacts with TV networks, and IT companies, and big businesses like Okumura Foods. Could this be the answer he’d been looking for? </p>
<p>The easiest way to tell would be by checking to see if the man had a Palace. And if he did well...Akira could go from there. If not, he needed to do more investigating. But how did the Phantom Thieves know if someone had a Palace? There had to be a way to work it out, right? Unless they all just existed in the Metaverse, and you could wander in whenever you pleased...but then how would you know whose it was? No, there had to be some special method, right? </p>
<p>So then—</p>
<p>“Wow, are you up already?” Sojiro Sakura had appeared at the door, staring at him incredulously. </p>
<p>Again, Akira felt a surge of resentment towards his older self, who got the luxury of lie-ins. </p>
<p>“I am,” he said. </p>
<p>“Um, do you want breakfast, or...”</p>
<p>“I’ve already had something.”</p>
<p>“Right.” The man didn’t seem to know how to interact with him. Akira supposed he couldn’t really blame him—he must be confused by the de-aging by itself, let alone any of the stuff that came with it. “I suppose you can’t really go to school looking like that, now can you?”</p>
<p>“You could tell them I’m off sick,” Akira suggested, shrugging. </p>
<p>“I guess I could,” Sojiro agreed. “And they’d believe it, coming from me. Yes, I think that’d be best. Are you, um, comfortable here? I still have the café to run, so you’re welcome to come there if you need anything.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine,” said Akira. </p>
<p>Sojiro nodded. “Stay out of trouble. Oh, and, if you could wake Futaba at some point before midday that would be great. That girl loses track of time sometimes.” </p>
<p>“Sure thing,” said Akira.</p>
<p>And with that Sojiro hurried out of the room. Akira wondered blandly if that meant he was late getting to his café. It must be a popular one, if he could afford a place like this. </p>
<p>But back to the topic at hand. Palaces. How to discover them. He could ask Morgana, but he suspected that by now, having spent so much time with him, Morgana would be wise to why he was asking and refuse outright. Futaba, however, did not know him so well. So, that was the plan then. He’d discover now how to get into a Palace, and then, when he was sightseeing with them, he’d slip away and see if he could confirm his suspicions. And even if he couldn’t, he could definitely make some progress on the question of Personas. </p>
<p>“Well, we can’t wake Futaba up this early,” said Morgana, “so—”</p>
<p>“Can’t we?” asked Akira, rising from his seat.</p>
<p>“Um, I mean—”</p>
<p>“I have sights to see, and I refuse to sit around here for five hours waiting for her to wake up.” </p>
<p>“Uh, Akira—”</p>
<p>But Akira ignored him, scaling the stairs at a swift pace. Soon he was at her door, taped over with signs to ‘keep out’. Well tough. He had things to do, and to do those things he needed her to be awake. </p>
<p>He pushed the door open, and was confronted with a dark room, the only light coming from her computer screen. Honestly, he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t a mild form of vengeance on her for what she’d done to him yesterday. After all, he was a kid—she should have at least let him win some rounds. </p>
<p>He strode over to the curtains and flung them open, casting light into the room properly. There was a loud groan from the bed. </p>
<p>“Whozzat?” muttered Futaba, rolling over. </p>
<p>“It’s me,” said Akira. “The irritating Akira.” </p>
<p>That woke her up pretty quickly.</p>
<p>“You!” she cried, pushing herself upright. “So you really are here...”</p>
<p>Akira narrowed his eyes. “Hoping it was all a dream, were you?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” she said stiffly. “I was.” </p>
<p>“Well too bad, I’m here to stay. For now.”</p>
<p>Futaba sighed and pulled out her phone. </p>
<p>“What?” she cried, staring at it. “Seven o’clock? What were you thinking? No one should be up at this hour—especially not teenagers like me!” </p>
<p>Akira snatched it out of her hand and held it away from her. “Tough luck. Sojiro’s gone now so Morgana needs backup supervising me.”</p>
<p>“Hey—this wasn’t my idea!” cried Morgana, but Futaba clearly didn’t believe him, grabbing his cheeks and smushing them around.</p>
<p>“You evil cat! Depriving me of sleep!” </p>
<p>“It—wasn’t—me!” howled Morgana, finally managing to get her to let him go by extending his claws. “It was all Akira’s idea—all of it!”</p>
<p>“Humph!” said Futaba, throwing herself flat back onto the bed. “Also, give me my phone back. Or else.”</p>
<p>Akira reluctantly acquiesced. </p>
<p>“Finally,” she muttered, tapping away at it. “So what was so vital you needed to wake me at seven o’clock in the morning?” </p>
<p>“Akira wants to go sight-seeing,” said Morgana.</p>
<p>“What?” said Futaba. “But you were so against it yesterday!”</p>
<p>“Changed my mind,” said Akira.</p>
<p>“Wow, you really are impossible,” said Futaba, rolling her eyes. </p>
<p>Hmm. It seemed by the way she was acting she really didn’t remember the dream, though it was still stuck vividly in Akira’s own mind. Curious. </p>
<p>“Anyway,” she said, “where do you wanna go? There’s a lot of places in Tokyo, y’know.”</p>
<p>Ah—this seemed like the time to bring up his question. </p>
<p>“Well, I was actually wondering—you know the courthouse?” </p>
<p>Futaba raised her eyebrows. “Why’d you wanna go there? You interested in court cases?” </p>
<p>“Not really,” Akira admitted, “I was just wondering—in the Metaverse there’s that casino there because of the lawyer woman—is it like that all over Tokyo? It seems like it would be pretty crowded given how many people live in the city.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know if that’s—” Morgana began, but Futaba cut him off. </p>
<p>“Well, it’s kinda complicated, and honestly I hadn’t thought about it that much before, but I think people’s Palaces are on a slightly different level to the normal Metaverse. I mean, I guess you <em>could</em> just wander in, but I think you’d still have to know who it was that was causing the disturbance, because you’re entering their headspace, if you know what I mean?” </p>
<p>“So, if you were in the Metaverse, you could see a Palace, but you wouldn’t be able to go in unless you knew who it belonged to, or something?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>“Something like that,” said Futaba, with a shrug. “Honestly, none of us has really spent much time wandering around the Metaverse just...looking for Palaces, I guess. But I think you’d probably find some if you did.” </p>
<p>“Would you two stop speculating and listen to me?” cried Morgana, leaping between them. “You <em>can’t</em> just wander into any old Palace—what do you think the keywords are for?”</p>
<p>“Keywords?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>Morgana’s ears flattened against his head, and he suddenly looked very panicked. This panic only intensified when Futaba said, “Oh yeah, to get into someone’s Palace you need their keywords as the bare minimum: their name, the location of their Palace, and what distortion it takes.” </p>
<p>“Distortion?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>“Well, everyone’s Palace looks different to the real world,” said Futaba, “that’s why it’s a Palace! Like in the courthouse: it looks like a casino because that’s what Sae-san thinks of it as.” </p>
<p>“Stop, stop, stop!” cried Morgana, a bit too late, in Akira’s opinion. “He doesn’t need to know all that!” </p>
<p>“Too bad, I heard the whole thing,” said Akira, watching as Morgana’s frustration intensified. “And these keywords—do you just have to know them or...”</p>
<p>Futaba giggled at the glare Morgana was aiming in her direction. “Well, I’d tell you but I think Morgana would claw my eyes out, so...maybe another time.”</p>
<p>Damn it. Still. He’d made <em>some</em> progress. </p>
<p>“Fine,” he said with a petulant sigh.</p>
<p>Morgana turned back to face him, menace in his eyes. </p>
<p>“How does anyone put up with you?” he huffed, swiping his tail back and forth. “You’d better not try and investigate any of this stuff on your own, you understand?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” said Akira. </p>
<p>That didn’t mean he was necessarily going to listen though. </p>
<p>“So I guess we’re not going to the courthouse today?” said Futaba.</p>
<p>“No, we’re not,” said Morgana, firmly. “Anywhere else, just not there.”</p>
<p>Anywhere? That left him a lot of leeway. Still, he didn’t actually know that much about Tokyo, so...</p>
<p>“Oh, I know!” cried Futaba. “You like the countryside, right?”</p>
<p>“I mean, I guess,” said Akira. What he liked more was the quiet, but he supposed it all came under more or less the same heading. </p>
<p>“How about we go to Inokashira Park? It’s massive, and way quieter than most of the city.”</p>
<p>A...park? That did sound nicer than most of the places he’d been so far. </p>
<p>“Okay,” he said.</p>
<p>“Yes!” cried Futaba, pumping her fist. </p>
<p>“We could drop by the seaside too,” said Morgana. “It’s November so I doubt many people will be there.”</p>
<p>“That’s fine,” said Akira. </p>
<p>The park and the seaside. They seemed like decent places to get started. </p>
<p>And also decent places for his guardians to get distracted.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Inokashira Park was...bigger, than he expected it to be. In a way it was good: there were few people there, just like Futaba had said, and it was far less overwhelming than waking up in the middle of a casino had been. On the other hand...</p>
<p>“So, do you like it? Does it remind you of home?” </p>
<p>Futaba had taken this opportunity to restart her interrogating from the day before. And from the way she kept glancing at her phone and occasionally typing things in, he got the impression everything he said and did was being conveyed directly to the rest of the Phantom Thieves. Less than ideal. </p>
<p>“It’s nice,” said Akira. </p>
<p>He wasn’t sure what else to say about it. It was a place that he thought looked like it might be good for thinking, or bringing someone to visit for a picnic, but otherwise...it was just a park. </p>
<p>He needed to think of something to get her off his case, but he just couldn’t figure out a way to do it. Back home most people ignored him by default. Here they seemed to take an unhealthy interest. </p>
<p>“Not very talkative, are you?” said Futaba. “Though I suppose normal Akira isn’t really that chatty either.” </p>
<p>Akira resented the term ‘normal’ being stuck to his older self, as though <em>he</em> were somehow very strange and unusual, but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like Futaba would listen to him anyway.</p>
<p>“Guess not,” he said, watching as the lake rippled and stirred. Was there a monster in there too? In the Metaverse? In fact, that reminded him...</p>
<p>He hopped down onto the rocky bank, and picked up a smooth, flat stone. It seemed about the right weight—and indeed, about the right shape. He threw it up in the air once, getting a feel for it. Then he flung it into the lake, remembering how he’d done it in the Metaverse, by the ocean. It skipped only once. But that was more than it ever had before. </p>
<p>So, he certainly wasn’t perfect at rock-skipping. Not nearly as good as he had been in the Metaverse. But he was better. So there was some transferability there—if not much. It made sense: the Metaverse was based off ideas, and the mere idea that he was good wouldn’t carry him far in real life—but the practise he’d managed to obtain there, the muscle memory—the instinct—that was real. And his body somehow remembered it. </p>
<p>“What does that even mean?” cried Morgana from the path. </p>
<p>Akira quickly turned to look behind him. It seemed him and Futaba were arguing about something. This could be his opportunity. </p>
<p>He quickly slipped his phone from his pocket and brought up the app, watching them carefully. They seemed fully absorbed in their debate, not even looking up to check on him. It was time. </p>
<p>He backed a little further towards the lake, then pressed the button. </p>
<p>A haze of dizziness overtook him, then Futaba and Morgana disappeared, and the sky turned a peculiar red. He was in the Metaverse once more. And it was busy.</p>
<p>Where out in the village the Shadows were sparse and carefree, the ones that populated Tokyo seemed intensely busy. All around him odd sprites danced around the water’s edge, and in the trees by the path he could see strange, monkey-esque creatures swinging from the branches. </p>
<p>He left the bank and clambered back onto the path, ignoring the odd little beasts and trying to re-orient himself. Despite being another dimension, it seemed that Tokyo in the Metaverse mirrored its real-life counterpart. Though...the Shadows were pointedly ignoring him. So that was something. </p>
<p>What to do from here? </p>
<p>There were two things he wanted to discover: firstly, whether or not Morgana had been telling the truth about not being able to enter Palaces from the outside, and secondly, how to activate a Persona. The first one seemed easiest to tackle. All he had to do was get back to the courthouse and see if it was still a casino—and if he could still get inside, of course. </p>
<p>He pulled out his phone and tried to open his navigation app, but quickly got the ‘no signal’ notification. </p>
<p>Damn it. That would make this whole enterprise a lot harder. He was useless with directions and he couldn’t remember where the courthouse was from yesterday. But. He was nothing if not resourceful. He <em>did</em> remember how to get back to the train station from here. </p>
<p>And train stations had maps. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Morgana would be lying if he said he <em>hated</em> the ten-year-old Akira. That said, he was starting to reach his limit.</p>
<p>“How could he have done this <em>again?”</em> he howled, as yet another passerby confirmed they had <em>not</em> seen a small, messy-haired little boy running around. “Doesn’t he realise how dangerous it is here?” </p>
<p>“He probably does,” said Futaba, rapidly texting the rest of the Phantom Thieves, “I just don’t think he cares.”</p>
<p>“He’s crazy!”</p>
<p>She sighed heavily. “Yeah, just a little.” She glanced at her phone again. “The others think he’s probably gone to the Metaverse again, and after all those questions he was asking this morning, I’ve got to say I agree with them.”</p>
<p>“I told him!” fumed Morgana. “I told him not to investigate on his own!” </p>
<p>Futaba gave a wry smile. “It <em>is</em> Akira though. Not like he was going to listen.”</p>
<p>Morgana sighed. She had a point, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. “What are we going to do now?”</p>
<p>“Go looking for him, of course!” said Futaba. “He’ll probably have gone back to the courthouse, right?” </p>
<p>“Yeah,” said Morgana. </p>
<p>“Then let’s go quickly!”</p>
<hr/>
<p>The train station in the Metaverse quickly turned out to be very much unlike the train station in reality. The train station in reality was a well-lit, relatively clean place. The train station in the Metaverse seemed to lead directly into the bowels of the earth, complete with black veins seeming to creep up the walls, pulsing menacingly every few seconds. And what’s more, he was sure he sensed a...presence below. And not a benevolent one. </p>
<p>This was really turning into a hassle. He seriously doubted there would be either trains or maps down there. </p>
<p>He did a complete circuit of the entrance to the subway, and it was just as he was beginning to lose hope that he glimpsed it. Just what he’d been looking for. A rack, filled out with maps of Tokyo.</p>
<p>He quickly snatched one up—it seemed to have an odd glittering sheen to it, but he ignored it. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, upon opening it, it turned out not to be a conventional map of Tokyo.</p>
<p>All over the city, marked out in bright red lettering, were strange places, with names like: ‘The Museum of Vanity’ and ‘The Pyramid of Wrath’. Though both of them had a little note underneath saying ‘out of commission’. The Pyramid seemed very close to the Leblanc. </p>
<p>But he quickly brushed that aside, because he’d spotted something far more interesting. A marker on the map labelled ‘The Casino of Envy’. That had to be it, didn’t it? So all these places—they were Palaces? </p>
<p>He thought of what the Phantom Thieves had told him in his dream: Ryuji and Ann had joined because of their abusive teacher—the one that hit on Ann...so that had to be ‘The Castle of Lust’. The museum sounded like something an artist would be interested in, so that must be one belonging to Yusuke’s teacher. There were lot of bad teachers in Tokyo, it seemed. What else—the casino belonged to Makoto’s sister...Akira couldn’t remember her name. And Haru’s father had had one for exploiting his workers...honestly that could be the Pyramid of Wrath <em>or</em> the Spaceport of Greed. And it left the Bank of Gluttony unaccounted for. </p>
<p>There were no other markers on the map, which Akira thought was odd—after all, there had to be other Palaces out there, right?</p>
<p>But no, that wasn’t his priority right now. He needed to get back to the casino. And with this thing in hand, he was pretty sure he could do it.</p>
<p>...Even if it was going to be a long walk. </p>
<hr/>
<p>It <em>had</em> been a long walk. Made slightly shorter by the bike Akira had found along the way, but still. He was pretty sure it was nearing mid-day. </p>
<p>The only advantage he had was that all this exercise was stopping him from getting cold in the bitter November wind...even if it distinctly wasn’t helping with the pain in his stomach, reminding him he hadn’t eaten lunch yet. Still, he couldn’t be far now. </p>
<p>He rounded another corner. Why was Tokyo so big? </p>
<p>And then...</p>
<p>There it was.</p>
<p>Brilliant even in the harsh light of day: neon signs flashing outside, music pulsing from within. It was the casino alright. </p>
<p>He cycled rapidly towards it, only hopping off at the entrance, the large glass doors just as he’d remembered them. The smell of alcohol was thick in the air, even just standing outside. He crept closer, still remembering vividly the monsters inside, keeping guard. How on earth had he managed to escape? It seemed miraculous, looking back. But then, he’d always been good at that sort of thing. </p>
<p>He could see through the doors, the gamblers all packed inside, a crush of people moving within. Were they real? He didn’t see any of the actual denizens of Tokyo out in the wider Metaverse, after all. </p>
<p>He gave the door a light push. It cracked open. </p>
<p>Was that it? Was that the proof he needed?</p>
<p>He should make absolutely sure.</p>
<p>He pushed the door all the way open, and dodged inside, the warmth of the building hitting him instantly. He let the door close behind him. </p>
<p>He was here. He could get in. </p>
<p>And he needed to hide. Quickly.</p>
<p>He rapidly retreated to the place he’d used before, behind the benches, to watch the middle of the casino proper. Again, the people within simply ignored him. </p>
<p>Shadows prowled between the tables, but not the peaceful, unobtrusive ones from outside. The ones in here took the form of security guards, holding long, menacing truncheons in their hands. Their faces were a whirling void of nothingness. </p>
<p>He almost wanted to see what would happen if he approached one—would it notice him? Attack him? Recognise him as something from ‘outside’? What had happened here to turn this place inside out at its core? Did one person really hold so much power?</p>
<p>“You shouldn’t be here.”</p>
<p>The sudden voice made Akira leap from his hiding place, colliding with the chair behind him and forcing him to scramble to keep his footing. He’d barely righted himself, prepared to give the lecture of a lifetime to this intruder...when he realised he recognised the voice. </p>
<p>A curious sense of dread fell over him as he turned to see who it was. </p>
<p>Goro Akechi was staring down at him, still wearing his ridiculous Metaverse outfit, his red mosquito mask obscuring much of his face—but Akira could still see his eyes. And they were cold. </p>
<p>Never had he wished more that he had a Persona to defend himself with. Why hadn’t he prioritised <em>that</em> instead of his stupid theory? Now he was going to die, and it was all his own miserable fault. </p>
<p>He glanced at the doors. They weren’t far away, but Akechi was closer to them, and though Akira was a fast runner, even he knew full-well he wouldn’t be able to reach them before Akechi did. </p>
<p>“Not thinking of bolting again, were you?” asked Akechi, only rubbing it in, the bastard. </p>
<p>Okay, there had to be another way out. He just had to keep looking, and more importantly, keep Akechi distracted. </p>
<p>“Why are <em>you</em> here?” he asked. </p>
<p>Answer a question with a question. Easy way to keep things moving. Now he just had to <em>think. </em></p>
<p>There were plush seats lined up against the left wall. If he ran for them he’d reach them in time, and be able to gain enough momentum to push himself up onto the platform above. Running along it would be risky though—and Akechi could easily knock him down or just shoot him with his gun. Out.</p>
<p>“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” asked Akechi, watching him like a hawk. </p>
<p>“I asked first,” said Akira.</p>
<p>These chairs he was next to still had drinks lying on the side from the customers. He could throw one at Akechi in half a second, and use the distraction to head for the doors. But again, the gun was too high of a risk, even with a quick escape—and outside was just plain road, nowhere to hide. Out. </p>
<p>“So you did,” said Akechi, with a predatory smile. “Well, I came here to do some reconnaissance while the others were busy taking care of you, you know, for when you turn back?”</p>
<p>A likely story. </p>
<p>“So what about you?” asked Akechi. “Aren’t you going to explain why you’re back here? It’s quite dangerous for the uninitiated you know.”</p>
<p>Even more dangerous when you were stuck in there with a metaphysical assassin with a gun. Think, Akira, think! The drink was a good distraction, but he couldn’t move about in here, not without Akechi catching him...but...</p>
<p>His hand closed around the phone in his pocket. He’d need to do this incredibly quickly. And everything he did would need to play out in exact sequence. If he screwed up he was dead. </p>
<p>But he wasn’t dead yet. </p>
<p>“You know what I think?” asked Akira, unlocking the screen of his phone in his pocket, taking a step back towards the seat, lining up his hand with the wine glass on the arm. </p>
<p>“What?” asked Akechi.</p>
<p>“Your outfit looks dreadful.”</p>
<p>His hand closed around the cold glass. Next second there was a crystalline <em>smash</em> as it shattered, a bloom of red forming on Akechi’s white doublet. Some of the chilled liquid splashed him even as he backed away, tapping the MetaNav with full force as he broke into a sprint in the opposite direction. His heart thundered in his chest, and he heard a shout from behind him—though whether it was from Akechi or someone in the real world he wasn’t sure. </p>
<p>The Metaverse and reality blended together, dull greys and vivid reds, tying each other in knots as he ran, taking the stairs two at a time. Which stairs? He didn’t know. He didn’t <em>need</em> to know. He needed to get away. </p>
<p>He was in a corridor now—a real corridor—people were staring at him—he still needed to escape. Akechi was stuck somewhere back downstairs. He tapped the MetaNav again.</p>
<p>He was horrendously dizzy, but he had to keep running. Red—then blue, as the corridor became dark and ominous. </p>
<p>He paused for a second, leaning against a stray wooden box, panting furiously. He couldn’t feel his legs. His hands shook beneath him, barely holding him upright. He could feel something warm trickling down the side of his face, and...wait...</p>
<p>There was something behind him. </p>
<p>He should have turned around quickly, to face whatever had snuck up on him and deal with it as soon as possible. He should have done that. But his limbs were slow and unresponsive, still shaking from his sprint upstairs. So he turned slowly. And a great swirling void stared down at him. It held a truncheon in its hand. </p>
<p>Death seemed to have a funny way of finding him. </p>
<p>But he <em>wasn’t</em> going to die. Not today. </p>
<p>And suddenly that <em>thing</em>—that <em>presence</em> he’d felt whispering at the edges of his hearing from the moment he first stepped into the Metaverse, that instinct guiding him through all its complexities—reached out and grasped him by the shoulders. And he <em>had</em> power now. </p>
<p>He extended his hands without even thinking why he was doing it. </p>
<p>And even as the guard warped and contorted, and a strange angel-like creature erupted from its bloated corpse, he felt energy crackling through his fingers, burning like fire—like lightning—and then—</p>
<p>Ferocious dark energy exploded from his hands, knocking him to the floor as dark hands seemed to grip the angel, tearing it to pieces before his very eyes. </p>
<p>He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. </p>
<p>
  <em>Akira...</em>
</p>
<p>A voice, but not one from outside—one from within his head, whispering through his mind.</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m here... </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Reach out...</em>
</p>
<p>Akira raised a cold, trembling hand before his eyes. Reach out for what? He couldn’t see... He was tired...</p>
<p>
  <em>I can help you...</em>
</p>
<p>Well, he did need help but...</p>
<p>“Akira?” </p>
<p>Someone real that time, outside his head. A girl? A boy? Or perhaps a cat? He couldn’t tell...</p>
<p>“Oh my god, what happened?” </p>
<p>Someone new that time. </p>
<p>He was so, so tired...</p>
<p>“We need to get him back to reality, if he stays here then...” </p>
<p>The voice said more, but it was blurry and unclear. And he could feel himself drifting... Drifting to somewhere beyond...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Child Akira: *works out the man who ordered a hit on him is running to be Prime Minister*<br/>Child Akira: Lmao, guess it's time to get a Persona then! Consequences? What consequences? This will be fine!</p>
<p>Spoiler: things are not fine. Admittedly, Akira did significantly overreact to Akechi's threat-level there, but looks like he ended up semi-activating Arsene anyway! Poor kid's really having a rough time of it, only three days into the future and already he's almost died. How are the PTs going to deal with all this, huh?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Consequences</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Goro was...confused. Well, he was a lot of things right now: covered in wine and shards of glass, standing alone, vulnerable in a hallway full of monsters, and most importantly, down a certain child menace and scourge of Japan, Akira Kurusu. </p><p>His mind was replaying the last few minutes on repeat as it tried desperately to work out exactly what had happened. </p><p>He was in the casino, checking and rechecking all the secret routes, scouting out ahead for when Akira changed back, trying to work out how they could get through with maximum speed without making himself look extremely suspicious. He was just returning to the entrance, getting ready to formulate a plan, when he’d spotted him. </p><p>Akira. Lurking near the entrance, doing exactly what everyone had told him not to do. To a certain extent, he’d expected it. Akira did not strike him as an obedient, self-effacing child. But just because he’d expected it didn’t make it any less annoying. Because now he was going to have to intervene so as not to make the Thieves any more suspicious of him than they already were—and he knew full-well already that Akira was going to despise him for it. </p><p>So he went up to him expecting a certain amount of resistance—or at the very least, another escape attempt, quickly confirmed by the way Akira looked at the doors immediately. He’d thought his warning might be enough—thought he might even be able to weasel some information out of the boy about why he kept coming back to the Metaverse—but now...</p><p>It was slowly but surely dawning on him that he’d just been glassed by a <em>fucking</em> ten-year-old. The stinging in his face and torso where the glass had cut him certainly made it uncomfortably hard to ignore. </p><p>How <em>dare</em> he? </p><p>This time Goro had been actually, genuinely trying to help for once, and what did he get for his trouble? A wine glass to the face, apparently. </p><p>That loathsome little brat was going to pay when Goro finally got his hands on him. Where the hell did he get off throwing wine glasses at people? The normal Akira would <em>never—</em></p><p>But on second thoughts, maybe he would, if he knew what Goro was planning. But he didn’t, and neither did his child self—he couldn’t. Which meant he was just a violent little bastard, apparently. He couldn’t say that didn’t remind him uncomfortably of himself, but that was beside the point. He was going to pay. </p><p>Just as soon as Goro worked out where he’d gone. </p><p>He looked around the foyer of the casino, but there seemed to be no sign of him—no angry Shadows, no confused patrons, so where had he—</p><p>Oh no. </p><p>Oh <em>shit.</em></p><p>He hadn’t—but if he <em>had</em> then he’d have ended up in the courthouse, and everyone would have seen him, and someone might have <em>recognised</em> him—what if it got back to Shido—what if—</p><p>No no no—Goro, you are thinking much too fast. Deep breaths. So Akira might have appeared in the courthouse—so what? He was de-aged by seven years. No one with any sense would recognise him; he wasn’t even famous. He wasn’t sure anyone in Shido’s inner circle even knew what he looked like. It was okay. But he <em>needed</em> to find that boy. </p><p>It...would be best if the Phantom Thieves didn’t get involved, if at all possible. Child Akira was wary of them as well as him and...besides. Now he thought about it, that comment about his outfit was very strange. And he wanted to question Akira on it without them hanging around. </p><p>Where would be the best place to reappear in the real world...?</p><p>But of course, fate came in just in time to ruin his plans. </p><p>“He’s got to be in here!” cried a loud voice from the entrance, as Futaba and practically every Phantom Thief stumbled into view. </p><p>Goro, apparently having lost a few braincells due to the suddenness of the attack, could only think to say, “Shouldn’t you be in school?” </p><p>“It’s lunch-break already!” called out Ryuji. “Also what the hell happened to you?”</p><p>The whole wine-glass situation came back to him in a flash. It occurred to him he might actually be in shock from the whole experience. Which was just fucking embarrassing if nothing else. </p><p>“Your demonic little nuisance is what happened to me,” said Goro, barely able to keep his temper under control, as, again, he was reminded that <em>this</em> Akira was ten <em>fucking</em> years old. “I spotted him in here and approached him to tell him to return to you, and the result was...well. I’m sure you can see.”</p><p>“Wow, did he throw the glass at you too?” asked Ann, peering at his outfit. </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>All of the Thieves winced at that. Ugh. He didn’t need their damned pity.</p><p>“I think he’s returned to reality,” said Goro, eager to move the conversation on. </p><p>“Reality?” said Haru, her eyes going wide.</p><p>“But that would mean...” muttered Makoto.</p><p>“He’s in the courthouse, yes,” said Goro, dryly. “Who knows what havoc he’s wreaking in there?”</p><p>“Lemme do a quick scan, just to check,” said Futaba, already conjuring up her little screen and tapping away at it.</p><p>Such a useful power. Not for the first time, Goro wished he had access to such gifts, but...alas, apparently not. </p><p>But suddenly her face went pale, and her eyes wide. “He’s back in here!” she said, her voice panicked. “And is that...? We have to get over there, quickly!”</p><p>“What’s wrong, Futaba?” asked Makoto.</p><p>“Big Shadow!” was all she managed before sprinting off in the direction of the elevator. </p><p>That...was bad.</p><p>There were vents Goro could use to get ahead, but he couldn’t afford to if he didn’t want to make them suspicious. On the other hand, if they didn’t get there quickly, they’d have a dead Akira. </p><p>Part of his mind nagged at him that that would be ideal—that if he died now, of unrelated causes, the Thieves would completely and utterly collapse in on themselves. That this was what he wanted. </p><p>He could see in his mind’s eye the image of Akira’s broken little body, lying on the ground, eyes blank, head surrounded in a grim halo of blood. The image didn’t really bother him with the older Akira—it was as much as he deserved for getting so persistently in Goro’s way. With the younger Akira, however...he felt quite suddenly that he was going to vomit. </p><p>And in his distraction he’d been bundled into the elevator with the rest of the Thieves, all of them standing in dead silence, likely contemplating the exact same image. He’d never felt a silence so utterly oppressive. </p><p>Futaba kept glancing at her screen anxiously, clearly waiting to see if anything had happened.</p><p>As the elevator dinged on the top floor, they all rushed out, but she stayed frozen in place, still staring.</p><p>“What is it? What happened?” cried Ryuji, immensely agitated. </p><p>“He’s...he’s waking up,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “His Persona, it’s...”</p><p>“We have to hurry,” snarled Goro.</p><p>Akira wouldn’t die from awakening a Persona, but all that power... They had to find him. They <em>had</em> to. </p><p>“Down the corridor to the right,” said Futaba, pointing to it.</p><p>Goro sprinted towards it, not even bothering to check if the Thieves were following him. If more Shadows showed up, if Akira hadn’t been strong enough, fast enough...</p><p>He raced through the darkened corridor, turned one corner, then another, and then...</p><p>There was an ear-splitting scream, as the Power in front of him was rent limb from limb by ferocious claws of pure, concentrated dark energy. And as it dissipated into miasma, the small form of Akira emerged, sitting on the floor, his eyes wide, his hands outstretched. </p><p>He did not react to Goro’s appearance.</p><p>“Is he there?” called out Ryuji’s voice from behind him. </p><p>Goro nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak. </p><p>Akira’s clothes were the same, so he hadn’t awakened fully, but his face was ashen, a terrifying greyish-tint to it—the same tint all of them developed when they used up all their magic energy. His eyes were blank and unseeing. There was a jagged cut across his cheek, where a shard of glass must have hit him. He was going to pass out within the minute.</p><p>The other Phantom Thieves came racing around the corner, and past him. </p><p>“Akira?” called out Morgana, running to his side and taking his arm, just as Akira slumped to the ground fully.</p><p>“Oh my god, what happened?” whispered Ann, clasping her hands over her mouth. </p><p>“We need to get him back to reality,” began Makoto, “if he stays here then the magic drain will—”</p><p>“We can’t,” snapped Goro, “we’re in the courthouse, remember?”</p><p>Makoto looked taken aback by his harshness, but Goro had no time to regret it, instead stepping through the Thieves to get a better look at Akira. His skin was still grey and clammy, his breaths shallow and rapid. </p><p>“We need to get some energy back into him,” he said. “Does anyone have any coffee, or...”</p><p>“I have this patch,” said Yusuke, quickly pulling one out of his pocket.</p><p>“Perfect,” said Goro, snatching it from him and applying it quickly to the back of Akira’s hand.</p><p>A child this young really shouldn’t be using such intense items, but they had no choice if they wanted to keep him stable. And his Persona would already be tearing up his brain chemistry, re-wiring his nervous system to accommodate for all that power. Shit. This was going to be nasty. </p><p>The other major problem was the large cut on his face, and as Goro stared at it he became aware his own face and chest were still stinging too—stinging from where this insolent creature had flung glass at him. But even though a stab of rage thundered through him, it didn’t last long at all.</p><p>“Hang on,” said Morgana, pulling out Zorro from behind him, “I’ll heal you two up, just give me a second.”</p><p>And the next moment a cool, healing mist submerged him, and when it faded the stinging had ceased, and he had only scabs where cuts had once been. </p><p>“Thanks Mona,” he said, with a fake smile, almost able to reassemble his mask fully. Though not quite. </p><p>“We should get him out of here,” said Makoto. “At least to a Safe Room while we plan what to do next.”</p><p>“I agree,” said Yusuke. “We don’t know what monsters could appear at any moment. Let us go quickly—there was just such a room back by the entrance, was there not?”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Futaba, nodding, “saw it when we came in. Who’s gonna carry Akira?”</p><p>“I’ll do it,” said Ryuji, “I’m strongest. Now everyone stand back a minute.”</p><p>Ryuji bent down, and carefully slid his arms under Akira’s shoulders and legs, lifting him up without too much trouble. “Damn, he really ain’t all that heavy for a kid.”</p><p>“Let’s go,” said Goro, trying to ignore the appearance of yet more evidence of what he’d wanted to ignore from the moment the younger Akira appeared in this world. </p><p>But they couldn’t ignore it much longer—not with the trouble that was coming of it. Fate really did have it in for him, didn’t it?</p><p>The group was quiet as they wandered back to the Safe Room, and fortunately the other Shadows seemed to be off that day. But Futaba was clearly intent on causing them all misery, because eventually she said, “Why do you think he’s doing all this? It isn’t normal, the way he’s been acting.”</p><p>Of course it wasn’t. Akira had never been ‘normal’, not even the version of him they were all used to. But it had been...different, then. Goro had never taken a moment to consider what Akira’s childhood might have been like, whether he’d also suffered abandonment, or if he’d been the apple of his parents’ eye. It hadn’t seemed relevant. After all, he had so many friends—how could such a person, so gregarious, so fearless, so perfect—have ever have felt the crushing loneliness Goro had experienced as a child? It didn’t match up. The puzzle pieces were misaligned. And yet...</p><p>Akira didn’t move a muscle as he lay prone in Ryuji’s arms. Like a little corpse—his breaths were so shallow his chest was barely moving. He looked so fragile—such a drastic change from his usual sharp, stand-offish personality that it almost seemed wrong to look at him somehow. Like it was an intrusion. </p><p>“It’s hard to say why,” said Yusuke, breaking the tense silence that had arisen from Futaba’s question. “He seems reluctant to speak to us at all, let alone explain what he’s thinking.”</p><p>“It’s definitely not just shyness,” sighed Ann.</p><p>God they really were stupid, weren’t they? Grasping for an answer yet always missing the truth, refusing to see what was laid out right in front of them. Not unlike Goro himself, in fact. After all, he probably wanted to see it least of all of them. But he couldn’t ignore it anymore. </p><p>“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, trying to keep his voice level. “He’s a neglected child, of course he doesn’t trust us.”</p><p>“Neglected...?” said Makoto, staring at him with wide eyes. </p><p>“And how do you figure that?” asked Ryuji, forcefully. “Don’t you think if Akira was neglected as a kid he’d have told one of us by now?”</p><p>“Y-yeah!” said Ann, but her voice trembled. </p><p>They had finally reached the Safe Room. </p><p>Goro gave them all a wide, condescending smile. “Well, once we go in I’d be happy to explain my deductions...provided you want to hear them, of course.”</p><p>He almost hoped they didn’t. </p><p>Akira was still silent, dreaming of another time and place. He practically never looked so peaceful while awake—a sharp contrast to his languid and calm older self. How had Akira managed to become so self-assured, so confident? Was it all a mask?</p><p>“We don’t need your crazy deductions—” began Ryuji, but Haru cut him off.</p><p>“Come on, let’s get inside. We shouldn’t stay out here any longer than we have to.” </p><p>No one could exactly argue with that, so they all shuffled inside, and Ryuji carefully deposited Akira on one of the plush sofas in the corner. He still looked wretched. Goro tore his eyes away, forced himself to focus on the rest of the group. They needed to hear it, after all, since they seemed incapable of coming to the conclusion themselves. </p><p>“So, what are your thoughts, Akechi?” asked Makoto, once they were all seated around the table—albeit, with a clear view of where Akira lay sleeping. </p><p>Everyone turned to him. </p><p>“I think I laid out my thoughts quite clearly before,” he said.</p><p>“But there’s no way,” spluttered Ryuji. “Why wouldn’t he tell any of us?”</p><p>Goro shrugged. “Perhaps he’s ashamed. As you said, even at the age he is now, he seems extremely reluctant to speak about his past. Is it all that surprising he wouldn’t want to discuss it with you? After all, it must be quite painful for him, even now.” </p><p>Futaba and Morgana had been very quiet since they found Akira. A quick glance at them all but confirmed his suspicions: either they’d already known, or very strongly suspected. A stab of white-hot anger shot through him as he realised they’d known more about Akira than him. He quickly pushed it down.</p><p>“What makes you think he’s been neglected at all, Akechi-kun?” asked Haru. </p><p>“Yeah,” said Ryuji, “where’s your <em>evidence,</em> detective?”</p><p>Goro sighed sharply. “His attitude is enough, don’t you think? The hesitance to speak to new people, the fierce independence—not to mention the fact he doesn’t seem to trust any of us as far as he can throw us—none of that is normal for a ten-year-old. All together, it’s not hard to come to the conclusion that the reason he’s so reluctant to trust us is because he’s never been able to trust anyone. In fact I’d go so far as to say it’s something he still does now—after all, when was the last time he asked any of you for help?” </p><p>Practically all of them stared uncomfortably at the table. As he’d suspected. </p><p>“But...how can we fix this?” asked Ann, quietly. “If that really is the reason he doesn’t trust us then it’s not like we can just go up to him and tell him it’s all gonna be okay. He’d never believe us.” </p><p>Futaba suddenly looked up from the table. “Maybe...we <em>shouldn’t</em> be trying to exclude him.”</p><p>“What?” asked Goro, blankly. He knew the Thieves didn’t have much sense between them, but <em>this—</em></p><p>“Ann’s right,” Futaba continued, “he’ll never listen to us if we try to warn him off—whether we do it nicely or not, it seems like he’s already decided he wants to be involved. So why not <em>let</em> him be?”</p><p>“Uh, ‘cause he’s just a little kid?” said Ryuji, staring at her.</p><p>“Not to mention a hindrance,” said Goro. </p><p>“He’s practically already activated his Persona,” said Futaba, with a shrug. “And it won’t take that much effort to look out for him if he actually wants to be there—so why not let him join? Obviously we won’t let him fight in battles, but if we include him he won’t keep trying to sneak in here alone and nearly die.”</p><p>Makoto sighed deeply. “She does have a point. We can’t let this happen again, regardless. We let it get much too close to the line.”</p><p>Both Morgana and Futaba hung their heads in shame. </p><p>“It would certainly be much easier for us to keep an eye on Akira if we let him join us, rather than trying to exclude him,” mused Yusuke. </p><p>Goro felt a little like he’d been transported to another dimension. “So, if I’m hearing this right, you people want to let a ten-year-old join us?”</p><p>“Not just any ten-year-old!” protested Ryuji. “It’s Akira.”</p><p>Goro pinched the bridge of his nose. “That doesn’t change how deadly this place is, especially to a child.”</p><p>“We’ll all look after him, Akechi-kun,” said Haru, brightly. “Don’t worry so much about it.”</p><p>“This is ridiculous.”</p><p>“Um, guys,” said Morgana, drawing their attention. There was an edge to his voice Goro didn’t like at all. And when he turned to see what was so urgent, it immediately became clear why Morgana sounded so panicked. </p><p>“What the hell’s happening?” asked Ryuji, his face white as a sheet. </p><p>Akira’s entire body had taken on an odd, transparent quality, like seeing through thick glass, or underwater—light shining through him at odd angles, parts of him almost entirely see-through. Something was seriously wrong.</p><p>“Move,” said Goro, moving to Akira’s side in less than a second and crouching by him where he lay prone. </p><p>A hand to Akira’s forehead told him quite quickly the transparency wasn’t just because he was turning invisible—he seemed to be losing physical form altogether. Was this because of his Persona? He’d never seen anything like this...</p><p>“Isn’t there something we can do?” asked Ann, her voice shaking. </p><p>“I don’t know,” said Morgana, quietly. “I’ve never seen anything like this—it’s like he’s...dematerialising somehow!”</p><p>“Well then, where’s he <em>re</em>-materialising?” snapped Goro.</p><p>“I-I don’t know!” cried Morgana. </p><p>Akira was getting fainter and fainter as Goro watched—he seemed barely an outline now. Where was he going? Was he going anywhere at all? What if he’d just ceased to exist—the pressure of a Persona too much for him? No, that was crazy—but what? What...</p><p>Then there was nothing at all. </p><p>The sofa was empty. </p><p>Akira was gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Goro: How <em>dare</em> that bastard child glass me?<br/>Also Goro: Is he alright though?</p><p>Honestly, this entire chapter could pretty much be summed up as: Goro cares about Child Akira and he hates it. And this fic is now rated T for all Goro's thoughts of child-death/murder, thanks Goro. Poor Child Akira, this is probably the situation he'd least like to be in given his hatred of depending on people. At least he isn't conscious for all this worrying. What's happening there at the end though? Is Yalby finally deciding to take a stand? Or is it more Metaverse weirdness? You guys let me know what you think! </p><p>Thanks so much to everyone still reading, I really appreciate it, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Self-Determination</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was...dark. And it was cold. And his chest ached like it had been set on fire, a bone-deep pain the likes of which he could barely describe, hissing through every joint and every ligament. He opened his eyes. He was alone. Back in that...<em>strange</em> place again. </p>
<p>He pushed himself up off the cold stone slab, his memory returning in bits and pieces. He’d been in the casino...he’d been caught by Akechi, his prospective murder—but he’d escaped, run to a new place...into a Shadow. A strange power had taken over him, controlling his limbs, sending dark energy charging through that horrible beast, destroying it completely. And then... What then? He couldn’t remember anything. Just a voice, whispering at the edges of his hearing. </p>
<p>Oh well. He would deal with that later. For now, at least...he was trapped here. </p>
<p>It was different this time, though. Where once he’d been dressed in prison clothes altogether too big, and chained with a shackle that slipped easily off his ankle, now he was dressed in normal clothes—the same ones he’d been wearing that very day. And there was no ball and chain anymore, and the door to his cell had vanished. Like the room was...adapting to him somehow. </p>
<p>He slid off the sorry excuse for a bed, ignoring the sharp stab of pain through his legs as he did. His head felt heavy, and his vision unfocused...all he really wanted was go back to sleep, but he got the uncomfortable feeling that if he did, he would not wake again. So he stood, and waited for his eyes to refocus. It took a while. </p>
<p>The room outside his cell was much as he remembered it—inside was a solitary desk, laden with blank white paper. There was no one there. </p>
<p>He wandered out of the cell, and through the door out of the circular room, into the prison complex beyond. It was very quiet, and he got the curious sense that his older self’s friends were no longer there. Or that, if they were, they wouldn’t be up to speaking. So that left only the door, still sitting atop the colossal staircase. It was hard to focus on somehow. But Akira knew he had to leave. He wasn’t meant to be here...and there was something out there, he was sure of it. Something waiting for him. </p>
<p>He began to climb.</p>
<p>It was an immense climb. By the time he was halfway up, even one foot in front of the other was difficult enough. And he was beginning to feel a strange heaviness pressing down on him. </p>
<p>He couldn’t lose here—he just couldn’t! Not after he’d already come so far... He’d been weak before, tired from talking to the others, cold from his ill-fitting prison clothes, but now... He had to do this. This was his best chance. </p>
<p>Then, finally, he was standing at the top of the stairs. A huge, tightly sealed door stood before him. Now then, how to negotiate this? The door looked pretty impassable, and the red light shining overhead signalled it was firmly shut. They’d all been trapped in here by whatever power had made him wake up in chains, down in his cell. But perhaps that was his way out? After all, it was the older Akira who was trapped, not him. He hadn’t done anything that warranted being locked up. So he could get through. Right?</p>
<p>He reached out, the metal of the door cold to the touch. And as soon as his hands connected with it, the light abruptly turned green, and a loud <em>click</em> seemed to signify it had opened. He pushed against it, putting his whole weight behind it as he shoved, forcing the door open, inch by inch. </p>
<p>Then he was through.</p>
<p>A strange sensation struck him as he stepped through the door. As though, until now he’d not been quite real—just a puppet, piloted by long, imprecise strings. But now he was back, and he was <em>there.</em> He shook himself. Probably nothing to worry about. </p>
<p>This new world he’d stepped into though—<em>that</em> was worrying.</p>
<p>It was a...warped place. Like the depths of some massive subterranean cavern, black rock surrounded him on all sides, an obsidian platform extending out ahead of him. But there was light coming from somewhere—red light—pulsing, like some sort of grotesque heartbeat. Odd patterns were engraved on the floor. And all around, sticking out of the walls, of the floor, there were...cells? And even further away, lurking in the distance, lurching around like puppets on strings, there were shadowy figures patrolling the floor. </p>
<p>What was this place? It felt like the Metaverse—but it was more sinister and more...raw than anything he’d seen in there before. Like there was something essential about this place. Primal, almost. </p>
<p>He quickly crept over to the nearest pillar of black stone and crouched behind it, eager to stay hidden from whatever prying eyes might be watching him. </p>
<p>There seemed to be some sort of kerfuffle happening not too far away. </p>
<p>“Stop...struggling!” a warped, distorted voice thundered from somewhere nearby.</p>
<p>Akira crept closer to it, dodging from pillar to pillar, staying carefully hidden all the while. </p>
<p>Then he saw what was happening. One of the Shadow Guards had captured someone—a young man, it seemed, and was dragging him by the elbow.</p>
<p>“Let me go!” cried the man, struggling to get away. </p>
<p>“Go back to your prison!” hissed the guard. </p>
<p>And suddenly Akira realised that all those cells he’d seen dotting this odd dimension contained people. There were strange, blank expressions on their faces—though they must surely see the injustice happening right before their eyes, they seemed not to care about it. </p>
<p>Akira wasn’t sure why it stung him so deeply to see their apathy. He’d always known about it, after all—known that adults were a careless, unseeing lot, who didn’t care about him, or anyone else that wasn’t themselves. He’d known that. So why was it so painful to witness now?</p>
<p>The man continued to struggle—he couldn’t be very old, not much older than twenty, his face still round and unwrinkled. The Shadow tightened its grip around his arm, dark void tearing the man’s shirt, making him cry out in pain. </p>
<p>“I don’t belong in there!” he cried. “I don’t want to go back—please, just let me go!”</p>
<p>“No one is permitted to leave the prison,” the guard hissed. “It is for the sake of your own happiness. Go back inside.”</p>
<p>“No!” </p>
<p>The guard was looking more monstrous by the second as the man continued to struggle. If Akira was right, soon he’d explode into some monster, and then the man...the man would be dead. </p>
<p>He took another look around at the cages, at the people sitting within. They looked on blankly. </p>
<p>Akira blinked back the tears forming in his eyes. No one was doing anything—why? Didn’t they care? That man was going to die...</p>
<p>An echoing thought sounded in his head—familiar, and yet not.</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s as you’ve always said—there’s no one coming to help you. And now, there’s no one coming to help him. </em>
</p>
<p>But that was just because Akira was alone, wasn’t it? It wasn’t a symptom of the human condition—it was just him...or...</p>
<p><em>Look at him,</em> the voice instructed, it’s tone deep and commanding, <em>see that he is in pain.</em></p>
<p>The voice was right. The man’s arm was bleeding now, and though he continued to struggle, the guard only got bigger, and pulled harder. </p>
<p>
  <em>Are you content just to sit and watch it happen?</em>
</p>
<p>“No!” cried Akira, though he wasn’t sure who exactly he was talking to. “I have to do <em>something</em>—but I’m only little, what can I—”</p>
<p><em><span class="u">I</span> will assist you, little one,</em> the voice whispered,<em> all you have to do is accept the rebellion stirring in your soul. All you have to do is go to help. </em></p>
<p>Was that all? Well, he could do that.</p>
<p>And the next second he was rushing for the man tussling with the guard, the words escaping him before he could even think what they were.</p>
<p>“Let him <em>go!”</em> he cried, fury pounding through his head like the unceasing beat of a drum. </p>
<p>“A child?” spat the guard, but he’d been distracted. The man pulled away. “Hey—get back here!” but the man was already fleeing fast. The guard whirled back around to face Akira. “You!” he thundered. “How <em>dare</em> you?” </p>
<p>“How dare <em>you,”</em> Akira spat back, feeling as though his very soul was on fire, “imprisoning innocent people who haven’t done anything wrong!” </p>
<p>“And how would you know that?” asked the guard, lurching closer to him. “You’re only a boy. You aren’t even old enough to be imprisoned here.”</p>
<p>“That doesn’t matter,” said Akira, as boiling energy shot through him, “I’m going to stop you. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”</p>
<p>And with those words, he felt those strange hands on his shoulders again, and the power rising within him once more. There was a strange...thing on his face. A mask? He reached up—it felt wrong—he needed to get it off. He pulled, but it seemed stuck. So he pulled harder. And then—</p>
<p>It was like an explosion. Brilliant white light surrounded him on all sides, and a voice pounded in his ears. </p>
<p>
  <em>Well done, Akira. I will assist you from here on out. </em>
</p>
<p>A large, invisible hand seemed to land gently on his head, ruffling his hair playfully. </p>
<p>
  <em>It’s good to see you again. </em>
</p>
<p>Then the light was gone, and Akira felt the power running raw through his veins. The guard seemed to panic for a second, before exploding into a huge snake-like creature, glaring down at him. But Akira was not afraid. He could do this.</p>
<p><em>Hey,</em> whispered another spectral voice in his ear, different to the one before, <em>you should let me handle this! </em></p>
<p>Akira didn’t have time to question the new voice on just who and what it was, instead grasping the spectral hand he felt reaching for his own and pulling it into reality. A strange creature appeared beside him—half-man, half...rock? But it didn’t seem to bother the creature, so Akira wasn’t going to let it bother him.</p>
<p>The huge snake-thing lunged at him, but Akira dodged neatly out of the way, feeling he suddenly had far more energy than before. As he did, he thought, <em>Can your magic deal with this thing?</em> Hoping the rock-man somehow heard. </p>
<p><em>It can,</em> said the voice,<em> just say the word.</em></p>
<p>“Um, blast it?” Akira said uncertainly aloud, and the rock-man laughed, before snapping his fingers, causing a terrifying blue wave of energy to engulf the snake-creature.</p>
<p>It gave a horrendous scream, before collapsing on the ground. But it didn’t disappear, like the angel in the casino. And Akira felt suddenly much, <em>much</em> tireder. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” said the rock-man, aloud, peering down at him. “I used the most powerful version of that spell—but you aren’t quite as strong as him, are you?”</p>
<p>“Strong as who?” asked Akira, weakly. </p>
<p>“The bigger you.”</p>
<p>Oh, right.</p>
<p>“Is it...going to stay like that?” asked Akira, peering at the collapsed snake-thing.</p>
<p>“It’s not, no,” said the rock-man, “I’m Mithras, by the way, so you can stop calling me ‘rock-man’ if you please.”</p>
<p>Oh God, this thing could hear his thoughts.</p>
<p>That was <em>terrifying. </em></p>
<p>Mithras (<em>not</em> rock-man) gave another spine-chilling laugh, before vanishing, only to be replaced by a huge, red, demon-looking thing, that Akira was sure he recognised from somewhere. </p>
<p>“And I am Arsène,” said Arsène (hadn’t he known that already though?), “your original Persona. Apologies for Mithras, he’s a bit of an ass, between ourselves.”</p>
<p>“Can <em>all</em> of you read my thoughts?” Akira asked immediately, keen to get that little issue cleaned up as quickly as possible. </p>
<p>Arsène chuckled. “No. Well, not unless you want us to. Or unless you’re me—I can always hear them—we are the same, after all. But before you ask any more well-put questions, I think we ought to deal with this thing, don’t you?”</p>
<p>Arsène extended a claw to the snake-thing. </p>
<p>“And how am I going to do that?” asked Akira, narrowing his eyes. </p>
<p>“Well, normally I’d say point a gun at it,” said Arsène, “but you don’t have one of those, so I suppose your scrawny little hands will have to do.” </p>
<p>“And what am I going to do with these?” asked Akira, holding them out pointedly. </p>
<p>Arsène’s face seemed to be stuck in a permanent smile, but he could swear the thing smirked at him. “You’re going to kill it, of course.”</p>
<p>Akira looked down at the beast’s eight, tree-trunk-like throats. “Not sure that’s gonna work.” </p>
<p>“Not if you try to strangle it, no,” Arsène agreed, “but we aren’t going to do that. Now go over to the closest head and snap its miserable neck.”</p>
<p>Akira dutifully walked over to the nearest one, which seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness. Probably not a good sign. He knelt down next to it, and picked up the head in his hands—it was so heavy on its own that Akira quickly realised he had no chance of snapping its neck. Instead he just stared at it, waiting for it to regain consciousness. </p>
<p>“That’s not what I said to do,” Arsène said lightly from behind him. </p>
<p>“I can’t kill it,” said Akira, turning around to direct a glare at him. “It’s too big—but the whole point is to negotiate with it now, right? While it's weak?”</p>
<p>Arsène got that strange, amused light about him again. “My, we are quick on the uptake, aren’t we? But perhaps you do remember bits and pieces—it’s not like you’re actually ten, after all.”</p>
<p>Akira was about to interrogate him on that very odd statement, but of course, the head chose that moment to wake up fully. Akira held it tight in his hands, raising it so it was at eye-level. It was almost as big as his entire torso. </p>
<p>“You...” muttered the snake-thing, “wretched child... I’ll eat you.” </p>
<p>Akira smacked it on the snout, making it wince and hiss at him. “None of that,” he said sharply. “Try it, and I’ll nuke you again.” </p>
<p>He assumed that was what the strange energy was. And it seemed he’d assumed right because the head looked distinctly panicked by that statement. </p>
<p>“No...” it hissed, “anything but that...” </p>
<p>“What do have that might persuade me to leave you alone?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>“Items!” the head said quickly. “Or money, if that’s more your cup of tea!” </p>
<p>Well, he did always need money...but there was something he was far more interested in at the moment.</p>
<p>“Do you know how to get out of here?” he asked. </p>
<p>To his surprise, the head laughed, its twitching almost dislodging it from Akira’s hands altogether. “Out?” it sneered. “There <em>is</em> no way out—you’re in the depths, little one. Once you come in, you don’t <em>ever</em> get out.” </p>
<p>Well. That was no good.</p>
<p>“But I’m not even supposed to be here, you said so yourself,” said Akira, cautiously. “Surely that means I can leave?”</p>
<p>The head frowned, and twitched ever so slightly. “Perhaps. There would be no place for you down here...but no one has ever broken the rules before.” </p>
<p>Akira very much doubted anyone had been de-aged seven years by some monster in another dimension either, yet here he was. </p>
<p>“Where’s the exit then? Or entrance, I suppose?” </p>
<p>“Up there,” said the head, pointing it’s nose towards the ceiling behind Akira. “Right at the top of this place. Keep going up and you’re sure to reach it eventually.”</p>
<p>“Fine,” sighed Akira. “I suppose in that case I’ll let you go.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” the snake muttered ominously. “You won’t be bothered by me again.”</p>
<p>Akira let its head drop unceremoniously to the ground, prompting not a small amount of cursing as it picked its other heads up and slid very slowly away. </p>
<p>“Deftly handled,” said Arsène, hovering next to him. “I didn’t even have to help. What a capable little creature you are!” </p>
<p>“Is the older me not so capable?” asked Akira, dryly. He certainly thought as much.</p>
<p>“Ah,” said Arsène, his perma-smile more ominous than ever, “I couldn’t possibly say. We’re one and the same, after all.” </p>
<p>“You can’t be both him <em>and</em> me,” said Akira, sharply. </p>
<p>“Can’t I?”</p>
<p>Akira glared at him. “We’re different.” </p>
<p>“So you say.”</p>
<p>“What did you mean about me not being ten?” </p>
<p>Arsène unfolded his arms and stood up a bit straighter. “We’ll address that once we’re out of danger. The exit’s somewhere at the top, isn’t that what that creature said?”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh,” said Akira, grumpily. </p>
<p>“Then come here,” said Arsène, beckoning him. </p>
<p>Akira hesitantly moved forward, unsure of exactly what was going to happen. He didn’t think it would be anything bad—Arsène was a part of him, he could sense it, but equally...he wasn’t sure it would be good either. </p>
<p>Once he was close enough, Arsène suddenly reached out and grabbed him around the torso, before lifting him straight up off the ground.</p>
<p>“Hey!” cried Akira, as his feet came off the floor. “What are you—”</p>
<p>Arsène hoisted him up, then turned him around so he was sitting on his shoulder. Arsène seemed somehow a lot bigger close-up—big enough for Akira to comfortably balance himself on his shoulder, at least. </p>
<p>“Are you settled?” he asked, his voice vibrating through his strange metal body.</p>
<p>“I suppose so,” said Akira. “But what are you going to—”</p>
<p>A whoosh of air nearly bowled him over as Arsène spread his wings out wide, then, with a few strong flaps, they were in the air. Akira held on as tightly as he could to one of Arsène's horns and shut his eyes tight.</p>
<p>“Not afraid of heights are you?” laughed Arsène, as they flew through the air.</p>
<p>“No!” snarled Akira. “I’m afraid of <em>falling!</em> Why are you so hard to grip?” </p>
<p>“I won’t let you fall,” said Arsène, and though his voice was unbearably cocky, Akira trusted him somehow. He still clung on tight. “Just keep your eyes closed until we get there.”</p>
<p>Akira had exactly no problem doing that. </p>
<p>He couldn’t have said how long they were in the air—perhaps it was a few minutes, perhaps it was almost half an hour. His fingers were sore from where he’d been clinging to the uncomfortable bone that made up the demon's horns.</p>
<p>Then they seemed to come to a stop. Arsène’s wings stopped flapping, and Akira thought he felt an impact as they landed on something hard.</p>
<p>“Are we there?” he muttered, close enough to Arsène’s head that he would surely hear him. </p>
<p>“We are.”</p>
<p>Akira opened his eyes. </p>
<p>They were on another huge, black platform, and in front of them stood an immense door, with brilliant red cracks shot all the way through it. Arsène lifted a hand to help him down, and soon his feet were on solid ground again. </p>
<p>“Sorry about that,” his Persona said apologetically, “I thought perhaps I should have carried you, but I felt you would like that even less.”</p>
<p>“I would,” Akira agreed. He’d have been too afraid Arsène might drop him by accident. “So, this is the exit, is it?”</p>
<p>“It’s certainly the highest point in here,” said Arsène, nodding behind him. </p>
<p>Akira turned to look, and his heart gave an odd lurch. Crimson red veins seemed to extend out of the walls and run deep into the earth below, all converging in the centre of the pit just behind him, then running off in a hundred different directions. </p>
<p>“What’s down there?” he wondered aloud, before he could stop himself.</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” said Arsène. “None of us have left the Velvet Room before. But I’d wager this place is connected to the Metaverse in some way, given the Shadows running around.”</p>
<p>Akira wandered a little closer to the cliff’s edge, trying to get a look at the strange, vein-like structures. “Are these actually veins, do you think? Or perhaps they’re IVs of some sort...”</p>
<p>Suddenly there was a strange, deep, reverberating sound that seemed to pulse through the entire cavern, and the veins turned an even brighter red, before returning to their normal shade again. That had almost sounded...something like a heartbeat. What beast lurked in the bowels of this place? And what were these veins feeding it? Blood? Or something else entirely? </p>
<p>“I have a feeling we’ll find out soon,” said Arsène. “One way or another.”</p>
<p>Akira almost wanted to snap at him for reading his thoughts without his permission, but found he could not. Arsène felt too...connected to him for it to truly be a crime. </p>
<p>“For now though, we should leave,” he said. “Do you have thoughts on how to navigate this door?” </p>
<p>Certainly it looked like more of a challenge than the door down in the depths where he’d been imprisoned before. Still—he could try. He walked up to it and reached out his hands—it was cold to the touch. Nothing happened. </p>
<p>“I’m not supposed to be here,” he muttered. “You know that, don’t you?” </p>
<p>And something, somewhere, must have heard him. For there was an almighty rumbling, and all at once, the door split where the cracks were and pulled away, leaving a small, child-sized hole in the centre. Well, Akira didn’t need any more prompting than that. He hurried through.</p>
<p> A slightly warmer draught hit him as he emerged on the other side. It was another platform, but the tunnel he’d walked into was smaller than the vast cavern behind him. And on either side, extending out into what seemed to be eternity, there were...trains? Was this a train station? </p>
<p>“Ah,” murmured Arsène behind him, “I’d been afraid of this.”</p>
<p>“Afraid of what?” </p>
<p>“This place,” he said. “I know it. And so do you, I think.”</p>
<p>“<em>I’ve</em> never been here before,” said Akira, looking around at the vast, decaying train station. </p>
<p>“No, but you’ve seen the entrance,” said Arsène.</p>
<p>The entrance? Well if this place was associated with trains then...</p>
<p>“This is the subway system?” asked Akira, a little horrified. He hadn’t known the citizens of Tokyo would hate the subway so much it would show up like this in the world of cognition. </p>
<p>“Something like that,” said Arsène. “We call this place Mementos, and though it <em>is</em> located beneath Tokyo, it’s not just the subway. In fact, it is the Palace of all humanity.”</p>
<p>Akira frowned. Humanity’s Palace...it didn’t look good. “That doesn’t seem right,” he said aloud. “It shouldn’t be like this. Why is the world so...distorted? And there’s something big down there too—bigger than just the Shadows we saw. What could it be?”</p>
<p>“Those are good questions, though I’m afraid I cannot furnish you with an answer,” said Arsène. “Although...”</p>
<p>Akira turned to look sharply at him. “What?” </p>
<p>“I could perhaps aid your train of thought. You wonder about the beast down in the depths, no? Would it interest you to learn that in every person’s Palace there is a Treasure that represents their distorted desires?” </p>
<p>“A...Treasure?”</p>
<p>“Yes, an embodiment of their sins.”</p>
<p>Akira thought about the veins running through the walls, the humans all locked up in cages, the guards patrolling every inch of the cavern stopping anyone from escaping. All of humanity, locked up in the depths...but why? </p>
<p>“If that’s humanity’s Palace then why is it so grim?” he wondered aloud. “Wouldn’t they want to be happy? Instead they imagine themselves in cages.”</p>
<p>“Not everyone,” said Arsène.</p>
<p>The man...</p>
<p>“But those who try to escape are punished,” murmured Akira. “Conformity...”</p>
<p>“I believe you put your finger on the root of the problem only a few days ago,” said Arsène, quietly. “After all, we’ve seen this place before, haven’t we?” </p>
<p>Akira stared at the trains lining the walls, their lights a brilliant, terrifying red, the people emerging from them dead-eyed and slow. He recognised those trains. He’d been on one before. Before he woke in that room, he woke on...</p>
<p>“The train,” finished Arsène. “The train that takes you down—down into the depths of the earth. Or here, I suppose. Wherever here is.” </p>
<p>And the god that controlled it all, made all humans—all adults, at least—its slaves. “Apathy,” Akira murmured, and the lights from the walls and the trains seemed to grow suddenly a little more vibrant. “So this is its physical form.” </p>
<p>It was pretty horrifying, for something so seemingly innocuous. </p>
<p>“I believe you will find something like that if you followed those veins to their source,” said Arsène, blithely. “But that’s an affair for another time, don’t you agree?”</p>
<p>He certainly had no desire to go down there now. “You’re right. We should focus on getting out of here.” </p>
<p>Arsène swooped in front him, offering his arm again. “In that case, hop aboard,” he said, with a low bow. “Trust me, it’ll be easiest to ascend this way.” </p>
<p>Akira sighed. Back to gripping those horns until his fingers went numb. “Let’s get going then.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>By the time they emerged onto the surface once more (Akira’s hands slick and shaky from how tightly he’d been holding onto Arsène), it looked well into the afternoon. </p>
<p>“Is any of this real?” Akira wondered aloud, as Arsène let him down. “I was dreaming at the start...I think.”</p>
<p>“The Metaverse and the world of dreams are not so different places,” said Arsène, smoothly. “Especially the ones that involve the Velvet Room.” </p>
<p>“Is <em>that</em> what that place is called?” asked Akira, thinking of the strange blue prison complex, locked somewhere deep below the earth. </p>
<p>“Apparently,” said Arsène. “Though personally, I wouldn’t trust Igor as far as he could be thrown—though the man did kill me, so I suppose I hold a grudge.”</p>
<p>Akira would have asked what on earth he meant by that statement, but he had more pressing matters on his mind. </p>
<p>“We’re safe now, so it’s time for you to answer my question: why did you say I’m not ten? <em>Obviously</em> I am, what else could I be?” </p>
<p>Arsène gave a short sigh, then stepped a little closer. “Why, seventeen, of course.”</p>
<p>Akira glared at him. “I’m not him—everyone agrees. I’m different. I’m...”</p>
<p>“You <em>are</em> him,” said Arsène, quietly. “And he is you. That body you walk around in is his, albeit, shrunken, somewhat. That brain inside your skull is his too. You may have been de-aged, <em>Akira,</em> but I still see you.”</p>
<p>Akira shook slightly at the weight of his name, it sounding somehow a hundred times more important coming from Arsène than from anyone else. </p>
<p>“But...I don’t remember,” he whispered. “It’s like I was there—back home—then I was here. But I’m...not real? I’m not...really ten...”</p>
<p>“No,” Arsène agreed, “you are not. Your body is ten. Your mind is ten. But they were both once seventeen and they shall be again. You will not return to Itoiyama when your body reverts, Akira—you will become your older self again. This version of you is no more real than your memory of yourself at age six, or fourteen. There is no home for you to return to. There’s just you.”</p>
<p>Akira clenched his fists, wanting to snap that Arsène was wrong, that he <em>was</em> real, he was sure of it... But was he? He knew the Metaverse, and he knew Arsène—felt he’d known them as long as he could remember... But he didn’t know any of his older self’s friends. What did that mean? </p>
<p><em>Nothing,</em> said Arsène, their thoughts as one. <em>Myself and the Metaverse are things that have been connected to you ever since you were born—things your older self now feels more deeply than anything else on this earth. It is only natural you would have felt them too.</em></p>
<p>“But <em>how</em> can I not be real?” Akira snapped aloud. “I’m here, aren’t I?” </p>
<p>Arsène sighed and returned to speech again. “You are the temporary product of a status effect—a magical illusion, albeit—an alarmingly realistic one.” </p>
<p>“I’m a fully actualised being!” snarled Akira, aware he was starting to sound too ‘grown-up’ but far too angry to care. “I have thoughts—emotions—memories! And everyone here can tell I’m different—he <em>is</em> different to me! You <em>can’t</em> tell me I’m not real. I am! I’m <em>here!”</em> </p>
<p>Arsène crouched down, his blazing red eyes almost level with Akira’s. </p>
<p>“You are very strong, Akira,” he murmured, “even now.” He extended a clawed hand towards him. “It was foolish of me to believe you would simply accept my words without a fight—it is against your very nature, after all. And mine. Come with me. There is something I believe you should see.”</p>
<p>Akira wasn’t sure what Arsène was trying to do by suddenly changing tack like this, and had he been anyone else Akira would surely have argued further. But it was exhausting trying to argue with Arsène—like yelling at a mirror, so he reluctantly reached out and grabbed the demon’s hand with his own. </p>
<p>“Don’t fly me there,” he said. </p>
<p>“I won’t,” said Arsène.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Eventually, it became apparent that the place Arsène was leading him to was the side street in Yongen-Jaya where both Sojiro’s house and café were situated. And he thought he could guess why. </p>
<p>“This is something to do with my older self, isn’t it?” he asked.</p>
<p>Arsène had guided him across Tokyo slowly and patiently, holding his hand all the while—his very own demon tour guide. It would have been atrocious for some adult to do the same thing, but Akira found he trusted Arsène—which made sense, if he was his ‘spirit of rebellion’. Though truthfully, Akira was beginning to feel he was something slightly different to that.</p>
<p>“It is,” Arsène confirmed. </p>
<p>Akira didn’t want to see it, whatever it was. It was his older self who’d gotten him into this mess. His carelessness.</p>
<p>“You are not careless,” Arsène said quietly, as he opened the door to the café and gestured for Akira to follow him inside. </p>
<p>“<em>I’m</em> not, no,” said Akira.</p>
<p>Arsène sighed, but did not argue. Akira wished he would. The demon clambered up the stairs, the knives on his boots sinking deep into the wooden floor—he was barely able to fit up the stairs and compress himself into the attic space above. </p>
<p>“What’s supposed to be up here?” asked Akira, as he hurried after him, but his questions were quickly answered when he emerged into the room.</p>
<p>It wasn’t just an attic. It was a bedroom. His...bedroom? </p>
<p>It was large, albeit, dusty, and decorated with all sorts of things; star stickers on the ceiling, a mug and a good luck charm on the shelf, a poster, a...chocolate fountain? There were boxes of things stored away, a television and even a laptop, sitting atop what could only be a work desk. </p>
<p>It was more than Akira could have ever imagined himself owning. </p>
<p>A vision of his room back home swam before his eyes. It was smaller than this, but still big—big and cold and...empty. There was less dust in that room. Akira kept it clean—he hated messy places. But despite being dusty, he felt that <em>this</em> room was somehow far more lived-in than his one back home, even though he’d been living there for ten years and his older self had only been living here for one. </p>
<p>There were no posters in Akira’s room. No souvenirs, no gadgets, no games. Nothing but a bed, a desk, a chair and a wardrobe. His fishing equipment was kept in the corner, secreted away, taking up as little room as possible. His desk was organised into folders of schoolwork—schoolwork he’d always found impossibly boring, but that he was obliged to do, lest he face the wrath of his parents. </p>
<p>Grades were one of the few things they actually seemed to care about, and even then, they didn’t exactly encourage him—other than to tell him not to fail. That was about it.</p>
<p>Oh, and there was a bed for Fluffy to sleep in, if she wanted to. His cat—his secret cat, that he’d gone to great lengths to hide from his parents. It was fine. They never bothered to come up to his room. He missed her—almost wondered how she was doing without him—before remembering she wasn’t doing without him at all. Because <em>he</em> wasn’t real. The real Akira had gone back home in the middle of that lightning storm and probably fed her tuna, before getting up to go about another boring day, eventually turning sixteen and being sent off to Tokyo for a crime he didn’t commit. He was fake. An illusion of a memory. Barely a person at all. </p>
<p>Arsène didn’t comment on his thoughts, which was strange, because Akira was sure he’d have something caustic to say about them. Instead he just gestured to the desk, pointing to one of the drawers.</p>
<p>“You may find something that interests you inside,” he said. </p>
<p>Akira walked over and opened it without protest. What else could he do at this point, having followed Arsène all the way here? Refuse to look? That was foolish, even for him. </p>
<p>Inside there seemed to be...some sort of book? He fished it out and turned it over. There was no lettering on it to indicate a title. In fact, it almost looked like a...notebook? </p>
<p>“Is this real?” he asked. </p>
<p>“It is,” said Arsène. “He kept it here in the Metaverse most times, your older self.”</p>
<p>Strange, for just a notebook. He flicked it open to a random page. His eyes alighted on the words. Immediately an intense, heady dizziness fell upon him. It was<em> his</em> hand-writing. But it wasn’t. It was more elaborate, the characters not merely efficient lines and edges—there was a kind of...flair to it Akira didn’t recognise in his own writing. But it was definitely his. And the words...</p>
<p>
  <em>The important thing is that we convince Yusuke. I hate to force Ann into this situation so soon after everything with Kamoshida, but I can’t think of any way around it—it’s not like he’d take me as a model (though really, why <span class="u">shouldn’t</span> he, I look at least as good as Ann,) and he seems reluctant to talk to us otherwise. It’s going to be difficult though. Madarame’s had practically Yusuke’s entire life to get inside his head and twist him up inside—that has to be why he’s so resistant to us. But he has to see. If he doesn’t then...the consequences could be dire. We’ll take him to the Metaverse if we have to. Hopefully whatever’s in that room will be proof enough...</em>
</p>
<p>At some point while reading, Akira had extended his hand to trace the characters with his fingers. These words were his own—he recognised the pattern of his thoughts, his voice—his mind, but...he couldn’t remember the events described. It was like someone had taken his very soul and used it to write about a world he’d never seen. Like a vision from a dream. A voice from beyond. </p>
<p>And he’d cared. His older self, if he’d truly written this. He’d cared about them all—about Yusuke, about Ann—probably about everyone else too. He joked about it of course, refused to express it, mostly likely, but...he cared. Just like Akira did. And suddenly he felt quite horrible about how sharp he’d been to them before.</p>
<p>But that wasn’t what he’d been angry about (but perhaps it was, just a little—hadn’t he always wanted friends?) what he’d been angry about was something far more important. Why had he gotten himself into this mess? What could have convinced him that this fake murder plot was the best solution? </p>
<p>He had to know more. And it seemed the answers to all his questions lay within this notebook. This...diary. </p>
<p>He wandered over to the bed, Arsène barely a shadow next to him, propping his legs up on the mattress, his back against the wall. Where to start? </p>
<p>"I’d try the 27th of October," whispered Arsène in his ear. Akira flicked to the date. </p>
<p>
  <em>We’re in a difficult situation now. If I don’t hold it together the team may fall apart, and I can’t allow that to happen—not after everything we’ve been through to come this far. Still, their hesitation alarms me. We did nothing wrong. Okumura’s heart deserved to be changed as much as every other target we’ve faced, and we had a deadline thanks to Haru. Prioritising dealing with the Metaverse interloper would have done nothing, given we have no intel on them. But the poll’s shaken their confidence. Why? It was hacked before and may well have been again. Since when have we cared about the public’s approval <span class="u">or</span> disapproval? Wasn’t the point of being Phantom Thieves that we would take out whoever was abusing their power, no matter how unpopular it would be? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But look at me, I’m ranting. And the others don’t care about that. The truth is that thanks to this interloper’s meddling we might all be caught by the police...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And honestly, why am I still calling him ‘the interloper’? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s Akechi. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He knew about Morgana back in June—that’s damning enough, but now he suddenly changes tack, wants to join our group? And just as we get most unpopular (thanks to <span class="u">his</span> interference) he extends a hand I’m sure he’s going to use to poison us. It’s not enough for our group to merely stop now. Given how many people are already dead, we’re next on the list—all of us. And we can’t steal Sae Niijima’s heart—Akechi said himself that she’s being pressured into this by her bosses, and having a sudden change of heart would not only ruin her career, it would put her on the hit-list too. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There’s a way around this, I’m sure of it, but it’s going to be incredibly dangerous. I’m not sure the others will agree. But I have to try. I won’t let us die here. I <span class="u">won’t.</span></em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Tuesday 1st November,</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>We have proof of Akechi’s plans, and I’ve pitched my idea to the others. As I suspected, they were hesitant, but I won them over in the end. This way even if we fail, it’ll only be my life on the line. The others will still have the opportunity to escape in the aftermath—though I won’t start grilling them on ways out of the country until we’re near the end of the Palace. No need to psyche them out just yet. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’ve checked the MetaNav but it seems Akechi doesn’t have a Palace: I suppose that makes sense if what Morgana said about Personas is true...still, I can’t help but wonder...are there Palaces the MetaNav can’t access? Ones we can’t see? There’s no way someone can be a teenage serial killer, willing or not, without having a Palace, right? Something seems very off about this. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And speaking of things being off, Igor continues to grow increasingly unnerving. Whatever it is he’s refusing to tell me about my so-called ‘rehabilitation’ (bullshit, just what do I need to be rehabilitated for?) I have a feeling it has further reach than just my own personal actualisation. After all, he’s the one who’s been pushing for us to gain popularity—and indeed, the one who gave us the app in the first place. I’d say don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth, but when the horse might be plotting the deaths of you and everyone you love, you might want to look at those teeth a bit more closely. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>How unlucky would I be to have not one, but two metaphysical threats out to kill me? ...Probably about as unlucky I’d have to be to get charged and sent to Tokyo for a crime I didn’t commit. Luck really has it in for me. Which is why we need to plan this very, very carefully. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Friday 4th November,</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I didn’t anticipate how exhausting this would be. It’s all well and good doing the normal code-switching, but trying to keep Akechi off our back without making him suspicious is a task from hell, and I know it’s weighing on Futaba and Haru trying to act so cheerful towards their parents’ killer. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But I’m so proud of them. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>We’re almost at the end of the Palace, and no one’s broken the façade even once, not even Ryuji (who I embarrassingly admit I was worried about. It’s fine. Akechi knows Ryuji hates him anyway.). </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The others are worried about me. I can see it in their eyes, and Makoto’s already asked me if I’m okay going through with it. It doesn’t matter if I’m okay. I’m doing this for them, not me. I wouldn’t be doing it at all if I wasn’t prepared to die for them. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>They refuse to countenance the idea themselves though. I keep warning them to prepare, just in case, but they insist it will turn out. I hope they’re right. I keep thinking I need to work out who’s the one ordering Akechi to do this, but I don’t have time, and my mind’s all a blur from just trying to keep the whole scheme imploding in on itself. I need to keep the others’ spirits up—we can’t risk a break now. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But God, I’m so tired. I hope this will work. The others have such certainty in me, but I don’t know what I’m doing any more than they do. All I’ve been doing since the very beginning is taking every chance I see and grabbing it, then the next, then the next—that’s the <span class="u">only</span> reason I’ve made it this far. I’m not magic. At the end of the month I <span class="u">could</span> die. Honestly, sometimes I just want to lay down and cry. But we don’t have time. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And I’m worried about what will happen if I die, and Igor’s still out there. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>My suspicions worsen by the day. Perhaps it’s just the stress of this entire enterprise, but I feel a presence watching me now, and not like before, when it was just my Personas. The more unpopular public opinion gets, the more I’m afraid people will somehow see.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em><span class="u">Something</span> is watching me. I’ve been getting less sleep. I’m afraid we’re about to fall into the abyss...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>We infiltrate again tomorrow. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I hope we reach the end of the Palace this time.</em>
</p>
<p>It was the last entry. </p>
<p>The last entry before...he had arrived here. </p>
<p>Akira’s hands shook, and he read and re-read the final passages, pressing his fingers to the paper, feeling that somehow the ink might allow him to reach the scared, yet fiercely determined teenager who’d written them. The words echoed in his head like the lights of the train in his dreams. His words. </p>
<p>Because the boy who’d written this...it was him. </p>
<p>In every pen-stroke he heard his own thoughts, in each turn of phrase he heard himself speak. As though, across the dimensions of time and space, Akira had reached out a hand to him in the form of this diary. </p>
<p>And he was so scared, and so angry—emotions Akira knew well. But in amongst all that bitterness towards the world, sparking through the darkness and forcing itself to be heard, there was...incredible compassion. Akira loved his friends—loved them more than life itself. This room was a testament to their bond—every item in here, he realised, must have been a gift from them. </p>
<p>He closed the book, hugged it close to his chest as silent tears fell down his cheeks. All this was to save them. And he couldn’t see any other way out. He was so scared—Akira wanted to reach through the pages to him—to hold his hand and tell him all he knew about the one commanding Akechi—about how he could save himself—about how he didn’t need to worry about throwing his life away. </p>
<p>“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered aloud, wondering if somehow his older self might hear through the dimensions. “I’m going to save you. I promise.”</p>
<p>The diary was rough and leathery in his hands. He felt Arsène’s ghost-like presence wrap a comforting arm around his shoulders. He was pretty tired too, now he thought about it.</p>
<p><em>Sleep,</em> hummed a voice in his ear. <em>I think we could all do with some rest. </em></p>
<p>And he did.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Akira: *in his diary* I have no regard for my own happiness or personal safety.<br/>Child Akira: *reading his older self’s diary* Well, you <em>will</em> have regard for your own happiness and safety, and even if you <em>don’t</em> I’m going to fix all your problems for you, because I <em>too</em> have no regard for my own happiness and or personal safety.<br/>Arsène: ...<br/>Arsène: Kids could you maybe lighten up a little?</p>
<p>So, Akira did not warp into reality, but in fact down into the depths of Mementos! I've always thought it was weird how the Velvet Room led directly into Mementos, which is an actual, physical location, but I guess the Metaverse just be Like That sometimes. On a more sombre note, this entire chapter is essentially Akira only being able to look after himself if he conceptualises himself as a separate person that he needs to take care of. I dunno what complex that’s called, but whatever it is, it’s a yikes from me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Blackmail</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akira was alone when he woke. Well—as close to alone as he could get, now his Persona was awake. </p>
<p>“Did you put this on me?” he asked, blearily lifting the blanket that had been draped over him in his sleep. </p>
<p>“No,” chuckled Arsène. “That would be Titania—she’s quite fond of children.”</p>
<p>Akira blinked a few times, trying to think of who Titania might be. “Is she another...creature?”</p>
<p>‘Creature’ meaning whatever Arsène and that rock-man, Mithras, were. </p>
<p>“We’re Personas,” said Arsène. “Your Personas, to be precise.”</p>
<p>Akira propped himself upright, leaning against the wall. It was dark outside. </p>
<p>“When Morgana was talking to me earlier, it sounded like each person only had one. A ‘spirit of rebellion’, he called it. So why do I have so many?” </p>
<p>Arsène folded his legs and sat down on the floor, the attic space still much too small for his physical form. “Hard to say. You might call it a gift...or a curse, if you’re that way inclined. I’m the first though—the original, if you will. The rest were variously captured or created by your older self.”</p>
<p>“Created?” That didn’t sound right. How could you create a spirit of rebellion? </p>
<p>Arsène placed his sharp chin on his clawed hands. “I could explain the process to you, but I think it’s somewhat irrelevant right now. After all, don’t you have more important things to concern yourself with?” </p>
<p>The diary still lay on the bed from where Akira had been clutching it in his sleep. He quickly retrieved it, holding it close to his chest. He felt it was a part of him somehow—a piece of his soul made separate. He didn’t want to lose it, but his jumper had no pockets big enough for it. </p>
<p>“There’s a bag in the real world you can use,” said Arsène. </p>
<p>Akira sighed. “I don’t want to go back there yet. Not without a plan.”</p>
<p>The plan to put an end to his older self’s suffering. The plan to take out the man who’d ordered his assassination. Step one of that plan: confirming who he was.</p>
<p>“I must say, you worked out a remarkable amount about Palaces of your own accord,” said Arsène. </p>
<p>“Not the most important part though,” muttered Akira. “How to find them...”</p>
<p>Arsène’s vibrant red features glowed a little brighter. “Lucky for you, I <em>do</em> happen to know.”</p>
<p>Akira peered curiously at him. “It’s strange you remember everything but I don’t.”</p>
<p>“Your body may have changed, little one, but your soul, of which I am a part, remains intact. Thus, I know all. Including how to resolve this little problem of yours.”</p>
<p>Akira smirked at him. “Alright then, let’s hear it: how do you discover if someone has a Palace?” </p>
<p>“Retrieve your phone,” instructed Arsène.</p>
<p>Akira did so. </p>
<p>“Do you remember the app that lets you enter this place?”</p>
<p>“Pretty hard to forget,” sighed Akira, pulling up his most-used app since entering the future. “Say, can it let you out too?”</p>
<p>“Not usually,” said Arsène, “but seeing as you did not enter by conventional means, I think it would allow you out on this occasion.” </p>
<p>“But just tapping it now wouldn’t do it?”</p>
<p>“No,” said Arsène, “or at least I hope not.”</p>
<p>Akira tapped, and the usual map appeared, with a search bar at the top. </p>
<p>“Do you recall your conversation with Futaba Sakura?” asked Arsène.</p>
<p>Which one though? He’d spoken to her a couple of times, but...wait. Yes, that seemed right.</p>
<p>“About the keywords?” he asked. Name, location, distortion. That had been it. </p>
<p>“Correct,” said Arsène. “Utter them into the Navigator, and the Palace will be revealed... That said, you <em>would</em> need to be nearby to enter. Simply saying them here, and having the Palace be over by the park would not transport you there.”</p>
<p>“I see,” said Akira. </p>
<p>What had that politician’s name been again? Something...Shido...</p>
<p>“Masayoshi?” offered Arsène.</p>
<p>“That’s right,” said Akira. “Masayoshi Shido.”</p>
<p>“<em>Candidate found,</em>” came a computerised voice from the MetaNav. Funny. He didn’t expect it to sound like that. </p>
<p>“Well,” said Arsène, “that certainly confirms he <em>has</em> a Palace.”</p>
<p>“He is a politician though,” mumbled Akira, “and they’re a dishonest lot. It wouldn’t surprise me to find out most of the Diet are criminals in some way or another. If I entered this...Palace—would I find out if he’s the one who’s been ordering the assassinations?”</p>
<p>“Without a doubt,” said Arsène. “But if you want my opinion, his connection with Akechi is proof enough of his guilt. An investigation would be wise, in any case.” </p>
<p>“The other two conditions,” said Akira, “location and distortion. What could they be?”</p>
<p>“The location is typically somewhere important to the Palace owner. You saw with Ms Sae Niijima, a prosecutor, her Palace was located in the courthouse, her place of work and the source of her stress. Similarly, the disgusting teacher Kamoshida saw Shujin Academy as his own personal castle of depravity. What would the politician Shido see as central to his desires?”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” muttered Akira. “He’s a politician...and he’s going to try and go for the election, right?”</p>
<p>Arsène nodded.</p>
<p>“In that case...perhaps the Diet Building?” </p>
<p>“<em>Candidate found,</em>” hummed the MetaNav.</p>
<p>“Well done!” said Arsène. “And on the very first try. But then, we’ve always had a knack for this sort of thing.” </p>
<p>“Look at you, switching to ‘we’ as soon as it’s complimentary,” said Akira, teasingly. </p>
<p>“I am thou, thou art I,” said Arsène. </p>
<p>Akira wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but he strongly suspected it was some sort of in-joke between him and the older version of himself. He wrinkled his nose at him.</p>
<p>“Anyway,” he said, “I’m not sure intuition will help with this last part—I would never have imagined a courthouse as a casino... Although actually...I suppose if all the trials were rigged...”</p>
<p>“Not so unthinkable as it first seems, hmm?” said Arsène, “though you are right that some of the Palaces are...more obscure.” </p>
<p>“Can they be repeated?” Akira wondered aloud. “It seems to me a castle might be appropriate.”</p>
<p>“<em>No candidate found,</em>” said the MetaNav, clearly disapproving of that sentiment.</p>
<p>“Guess not.” </p>
<p>“I’m not sure,” confessed Arsène, “I suppose it could be possible, albeit: clearly not in this case.” </p>
<p>“What else would he think of it as...he’s corrupt and he’s been killing people so, the Diet would be...a slaughterhouse?”</p>
<p>“<em>No candidate found.</em>”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure he’s killed many fellow politicians,” Arsène clarified. “That would draw a little too much attention.”</p>
<p>“Good point,” mused Akira. “Well then, how about...a mansion?”</p>
<p>“<em>No candidate found.</em>”</p>
<p>“Uh, shrine.”</p>
<p>“<em>No candidate found.</em>”</p>
<p>“Thankfully not <em>all</em> the politicians in Japan worship him,” said Arsène. </p>
<p>“Yeah, but a guy like that has to have some sort of God Complex, right?” said Akira. “Corruption is normal, but murder? Mental shutdowns? That’s kind of crazy, even here.” </p>
<p>“You make an excellent point, but the shrine is out. Given Shido’s...ah...apparent taste, perhaps something gaudier—more opulent would be in order?”</p>
<p>It was true that those glasses were almost as much as a crime against fashion as Akechi’s horrible Metaverse outfit. Seemed the two of them had that in common. </p>
<p>“Somewhere gaudy and opulent, huh? Well we’ve already had castle and mansion, so it isn’t either of those. Where else do rich people like to spend their money?”</p>
<p>He honestly couldn’t think of anything. There weren’t a frightful lot of rich people in Itoiyama. Plenty of middling sorts, but not much else besides. Just another reason the town was dull as dishwater.</p>
<p>“I’m afraid I couldn’t answer you either,” sighed Arsène. “I’m more for stealing from the rich than attending their parties.” </p>
<p>“Maybe hotel?” Akira wondered. “Rich people sometimes buy out hotel floors, don’t they?”</p>
<p>“<em>No candidate found.</em>”</p>
<p>“Ugh! Where else... Perhaps...cruise ship? We don’t get many at home, but—”</p>
<p>“<em>Candidate found. Would you like to begin navigation?</em>”</p>
<p>Akira almost dropped his phone in shock. </p>
<p>“We did it!” he said in a hushed whisper, half-afraid someone might hear. “We worked him out!” </p>
<p>“So we did,” said Arsène, his smile glowing more brightly than ever. “Well done Akira, we’ve made great progress today.”</p>
<p>Akira sighed and put his phone down. For some reason that brain-storming had been exhausting. </p>
<p>“What time is it?” he asked, peering out of the window. </p>
<p>“I’d estimate around four o’clock in the morning,” said Arsène. “You should probably get more sleep.”</p>
<p>“I’m not tired,” said Akira, shaking his head. “I mean...I’m mentally tired, but I won’t be able to sleep still thinking about this.”</p>
<p>Arsène sighed. “I understand. Do you want to see the Palace?”</p>
<p>Akira knotted his fingers together. It would be dangerous but...there was no part of coming to the future that hadn’t been dangerous so far. And he didn’t have time to waste. His older self might come back at any moment. He had to help before then. </p>
<p>“Let’s go,” he said.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The ship was...worse than he’d imagined.</p>
<p>He’d expected it to be bad—he doubted anyone had a Palace who’s interior was genuinely nice. That said, this was a bit much. </p>
<p>The boat floated on a sea of blood, the moonlight rendering it black and void-like, skyscrapers emerging from under the surface like a beached whale’s ribs bursting through its rotting corpse. The wind was cold, and there was an acidic, polluted scent to it as it blew off the sea. The entire structure of this madman’s dream was a monument to decay and corruption. Even if Shido wasn’t the one who ordered his assassination (which seemed more unlikely than ever) then he deserved to have his heart changed purely based on how he viewed the rest of Japan. </p>
<p>The country would sink, and his cruise-ship of cronies would float atop it all, drinking and feasting themselves to death on the corpses. It was utterly disgusting. Music pounded from the entrance to the building behind him. The beat sent juddering aches up his body, not helping the nausea already building in his throat. </p>
<p>“Come on,” said Arsène, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We must examine what is within.”</p>
<p>Akira nodded, then forced himself to look away from the drowned city of Tokyo. He had work to do. </p>
<p>“Hmm, you still don’t have a costume,” Arsène mused as they approached the door. “That might be helpful, depending on how things are once we go in.”</p>
<p>Akira looked down at his drab day-wear. “On the other hand, it’s not much protection either.”</p>
<p>“My thoughts exactly. Do try to stay out of danger, won’t you?” </p>
<p>“I won’t take any unnecessary risks,” said Akira. Emphasis on the ‘unnecessary’, for some risks<em> were</em> necessary. </p>
<p>“I know,” said Arsène, staring down at him with his ever-present demonic grin. “It’s up to you from here.”</p>
<p>And with those words Arsène faded from view. Akira could still feel his presence, but he was...more alone now. This <em>was</em> up to him. He needed to find proof Shido was the one ordering the mental shutdowns. Then they could finally move forward with some sort of plan. </p>
<p>With a concerted shove, the massive door creaked open, and Akira slipped into the Palace proper.</p>
<p>The inside turned out to be just as disgusting as the outside—albeit, in a different way. Where outside was all open decay; inside was a sickening, glittering façade—like trying to mask the scent of a corpse with perfume. </p>
<p>Akira had emerged into a huge foyer filled with hundreds of people, all wearing formal party-wear, and, most interestingly, all wearing masks. Good. Akira wouldn’t stand out too much then. It also meant that for all these people were counted among those safe on the boat...Shido probably didn’t trust them too much. He got the strange feeling that if he looked hard enough, he’d probably find a device that would make the floor fall out from under them, and dump them all into the ocean with the rest of the refuse. </p>
<p>Now then...how to confirm his suspicions? He couldn’t just walk up and ask if any of them knew if Shido was the one ordering mental shutdowns, but if this was his Palace, he had to hear something about it sooner or later, right? </p>
<p>He crept up to the nearest group of people, talking among themselves, doing his best to look insignificant—as though he was meant to be there. </p>
<p>“Did you hear about Tanaka-san? Apparently he tried to sell us out! And after everything we’d done for him too.”</p>
<p>“Well then, he got what he deserved, wouldn’t you say?”</p>
<p>“You’d think someone that involved with Shido-san would know what would happen if you tried to cross him.”</p>
<p>“True, but Tanaka was always a stupid one, wasn’t he?”</p>
<p>“Never stupider than now—I hear he’s vegetating in the main hospital—it’s only a matter of time until his family pull life-support, after all, he was getting on in years.”</p>
<p>“He’s lucky he wasn’t in traffic when he got shut-down!”</p>
<p>“Yes, that is the usual way of doing things, isn’t it? Perhaps Shido’s fixer is slipping?”</p>
<p>“I’m sure he wasn’t killed outright for a reason, Shido-san doesn’t accept mistakes, after all!” </p>
<p>...And here Akira had thought gathering evidence might be difficult. Shido’s cronies seemed to be just about bursting to discuss the shut-downs he’d ordered—like some kind of sick entertainment. But then, they were already allied with Shido—should he really expect more from such scum? </p>
<p>At least he had the confirmation he needed. Technically, he could leave now and be able to form his plan solely on this basis...but he was in the ship now—and it would be a shame not to stick around for a bit longer and get a better idea of what it was like. </p>
<p>He wandered through the party-goers, who all ignored him as resolutely as did the adults in his real life. That was one advantage to being small and non-threatening; people tended not to notice him, and it seemed that was as true in Tokyo as it was back home. </p>
<p>He was able to creep all the way up to the top of the stairs without anyone noticing. Shadowy waiters served all the guests, but Akira stayed out of their line of sight, dodging between people and behind sofas. </p>
<p>The people inside this strange ship all appeared to be real, like those in the casino—but these seemed...more realistic somehow—as though they were based off people Shido actually knew, rather than just the actual residents of the Diet Building. </p>
<p>And all of them were talking smugly about the up-coming election—about the shutdowns—about how easy it was going to be for them to manoeuvre themselves to victory over the simple-minded residents of the country. And if the news-coverage of Shido he’d been reading earlier was right, then they weren’t overconfident in thinking that. This man—this monster—had clearly been working hard for years reach this moment. </p>
<p>All the more reason to crush him before he actually attained victory. </p>
<p>Eventually, Akira reached what seemed to be the top floor of the ship complex. It wasn’t very tall—and there seemed to be far more levels below, but something called him up here...he felt that there was something very important hidden within. </p>
<p>And following that instinct that drove him forward—had been driving him practically since the moment he appeared in the future, he found himself in front of a door. Or...many doors, to be precise. The entrance to the place called the ‘Representatives Chamber’ was a set of four grandiose gold doors, and in each of them appeared to be some sort of slot, for a keycard or something similar, along with one in the very centre. Five slots. Five keys. And within had to be...</p>
<p><em>The Treasure,</em> Arsène hissed in his mind. <em>I hadn’t imagined it would be so close.</em></p>
<p>Those cards would be trouble though, whatever they were, unless he could find a way around. </p>
<p><em>We passed by what is known as a Safe Room on our way here,</em> said Arsène. <em>Let us discuss further there. </em></p>
<p><em>You’ll have to guide me there,</em> thought Akira. </p>
<p>
  <em>Then listen closely...</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>The Safe Room was just as grand as everywhere else on the ship, but it felt a little less distorted, and a little more...well, safe. </p>
<p>“That <em>is</em> the intent,” said Arsène, now fully manifested again. </p>
<p>Akira had sat himself on the table, too uneasy to try and settle in one of the seats. </p>
<p>“So,” he said quietly, “where do we go from here?”</p>
<p>“That is up to you,” said Arsène, towering over him, wings folded tightly behind his back. </p>
<p>“We could steal this man’s heart,” said Akira, “but to do that we’d need to get past those doors, and there probably isn’t any way we could sneak around them, so we’d have to get whatever keycard thing it is that’s keeping us out.”</p>
<p>“Complicated,” said Arsène.</p>
<p>“Exactly—and worse still, doing that would probably mean I’d end up fighting, and I’m not sure that’s a strength of mine.”</p>
<p>Arsène cleared his throat. “I would hesitate to describe you as ‘weaker’ than your older self: certainly you have less stamina and defence, but you still have the ability to wield much the same attacks he did. In fact, taking a glance at how we’ve all been re-arranged, I would say you’re <em>more</em> offensively inclined than him.”</p>
<p>Akira blinked. “And that means...”</p>
<p>“It means your ability to inflict harm is more developed than his.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” He wasn’t sure that was a good thing. In fact, it sounded like the opposite of a good thing. </p>
<p>“Don’t look so disheartened,” said Arsène, “your skills are a gift, after all.”</p>
<p>“Well, yes,” said Akira. “That doesn’t that the fact that I can... That I’m more... It’s weird—that’s all I’m saying!” </p>
<p>Arsène chuckled. “It does not mean you are a bad person, Akira. Just that you value more strongly your offensive abilities than your defensive ones. And part of that is purely due to the fact that you are, as you’ve pointed out, younger than your older self, and therefore have less natural defence in terms of size and speed.”</p>
<p>Akira nodded slowly. “Still, the point stands—it’s going to be difficult for me to manage this on my own.”</p>
<p>Arsène nodded. “That much is certainly true.” </p>
<p>Akira gave a hefty sigh. He didn’t want to get his older self’s friends involved in this. This was all for their sake: in the pursuit of keeping them from harm. That said, they had Personas too...</p>
<p>“And they are apt fighters themselves,” said Arsène. “They’ve not been doing nothing these last few months, I assure you. All your older self’s compatriots are equal to him in terms of fighting.” </p>
<p>“Would they listen, do you think?” asked Akira, pulling anxiously at his hair. “They’ve not exactly been great at that, from my point of view.”</p>
<p>Arsène tapped his fingers agitatedly. “I know where you’re coming from, and I would be lying if I tried to suggest to you that they would listen to your plan without considerable disagreement. However, the fact you now have me at your side is significant.” </p>
<p>“You mean, they’d be more likely to listen because I’m a Persona-user now?” </p>
<p>“Precisely.”</p>
<p>“Hmm.” Akira pulled up his knees and rested his chin on them. “But they might kick up a fuss about that too. This always happens with older people. They focus on the silly things because they find it uncomfortable to think about the important ones.” </p>
<p>“Hmm, you certainly have a different point of view to them,” mused Arsène. “They will naturally be more concerned about your health, being as you now have the body and mind of a child.” </p>
<p>“I’m not even real,” said Akira. “And this is to save my older self too—don’t forget.” </p>
<p>Arsène laughed. “Of course, you are right. Still, if you intend to involve them, be prepared for pushback. They will not take well to you having developed a Persona, nor having investigated this Palace yourself. It will be a point of confrontation regardless.”</p>
<p>Akira massaged his forehead. “There has to be a way of getting through to them without turning this into a fight, surely?” </p>
<p>“Perhaps,” said Arsène, “but remember that your status as a child agitates them. They will be less inclined to listen to you because of your age.” </p>
<p>The curse of youth: perpetually ignored by adults because of your age. He’d have thought teenagers might understand but...these were very irritating teenagers. Was there any way he could pitch his idea without it turning into a fight? Doing it in-person would surely only escalate things. So what if...</p>
<p>He let his legs fall off the table, sitting bolt upright. </p>
<p>“I have an idea.” </p>
<p>Arsène grinned. </p>
<hr/>
<p>A thorough search of the entire Palace had yielded no sign of Akira: solid or ghostly. Eventually, as midday faded to afternoon and into the evening, they were forced to leave and return home before anyone got suspicious. It was a dreadful feeling. </p>
<p>Morgana sat curled up next to Futaba on the train ride all the way back to Yongen-Jaya, and he knew both of them were thinking the same thing. How to explain to the Boss what had happened. How to explain they’d lost Akira. Maybe for good.</p>
<p>How <em>could</em> you explain such a thing? That he’d disappeared into another dimension, lost them, ventured into a dangerous Palace all on his own, and then seemed to vanish out of existence altogether? It was impossible. And he was dreading the confrontation when they got back. </p>
<p>If the way Futaba kept anxiously stroking his head was any indication, she was nervous too. </p>
<p>Eventually, they reached the stop.</p>
<p>At first, Futaba didn’t move. </p>
<p>“Come on,” said Morgana, hopping off her lap. “It’ll only be worse if we delay it.”</p>
<p>Futaba clenched her fists, clearly wanting to argue—but in the end she just nodded silently, and got up. </p>
<p>There weren’t many people at the station at this time of day, and as they walked slowly back to the house, a pervasive sense of doom seemed to hang over them. Eventually they reached the side-street that led to the Leblanc, where Sojiro would still be working. Futaba paused at the entrance, her hands shaking. </p>
<p>“It’s our fault,” she muttered quietly. “We’re the ones who lost sight of him.”</p>
<p>Privately, Morgana agreed, but he couldn’t say that to Futaba. “Listen, it’s like Makoto said; he’d had found a way around us somehow, if he wanted to.” </p>
<p>She exhaled sharply. “Why did he have to go into the Palace? If he hadn’t then it would all have been fine! But now...”</p>
<p>“We have to tell the Boss,” said Morgana, rubbing himself against her leg. “At least then we won’t have to wait, dreading it.”</p>
<p>Futaba gave a ragged, tearful gasp, then nodded. </p>
<p>The walk to the Leblanc seemed to take hours, and when they finally reached the door, the bell that rang above it seemed almost funerary in nature. </p>
<p>“Oh, hey,” said Sojiro, as they walked in. “How was your day?”</p>
<p>Futaba did not respond, and Morgana, unable to be heard by Sojiro, couldn’t step up and help her out. </p>
<p>Sojiro seemed to sense something was wrong all on his own though, because he quickly put the cup he was washing down and approached them. “Hey...where’s the kid? Are you crying?”</p>
<p>A quick glance up at Futaba told Morgana this was indeed the case. This was going to be nasty.</p>
<p>“He’s...he’s gone,” she whispered, barely loud enough to hear.</p>
<p>“Gone?” asked Sojiro, folding his arms. “What do you mean he’s gone? He can’t have just vanished.”</p>
<p>Futaba nodded mutely, before bursting into full-on tears.</p>
<p>“Hey, hey,” said Sojiro, hurrying to her side, and trying awkwardly to comfort her. “I’m sure it’s not so bad as all that. What happened?” </p>
<p>“That <em>is</em> what happened!” cried Futaba, through sobs. “He just...vanished!” </p>
<p>Sojiro looked around like he was desperately hoping for someone else to help him interpret that remark, but with Akira gone there was no one there. Just Morgana. And he...he was useless. </p>
<p>“Does this, uh, have to do with his whole...situation?” asked Sojiro, rubbing Futaba’s back as she continued to cry. “Might that not be why he disappeared? Hey—maybe he’ll turn up as a teenager again?” </p>
<p>Strangely, that remark seemed to calm Futaba down a bit. </p>
<p>“Do you think?” she hiccoughed. </p>
<p>“Sure—it’s just as likely as anything else you guys have done, right?”</p>
<p>Futaba gave a great, shuddering sigh, then nodded. “I guess so.”</p>
<p>“Well then, let’s not worry for now: if he doesn’t turn up tomorrow morning, then we’ll start to look, alright?”</p>
<p>Morgana could see that Futaba was uneasy with this arrangement, but eventually she nodded, and really, he couldn’t blame her. After all, at this point there was little else they could do. </p>
<p>Morgana could sense the concern from both the chief and Futaba as they returned home, and watched carefully after Futaba had fallen asleep, sitting with the chief in the living room. The blanket was still there from yesterday; now unoccupied. Morgana watched from the edge of it, observing as Sojiro picked his phone up, then put it down several times. Eventually he called a number, but it seemed whoever was on the end didn’t answer, and he put it back down with a tremendous sigh. At about midnight the chief went up to bed too, and Morgana settled himself by Futaba’s feet. </p>
<p>He did not get much sleep that night. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Light was just beginning to stream in through the windows as Morgana awoke. Which was odd, because Futaba didn’t usually leave her curtains open. As he blearily returned to consciousness, he became aware of something else odd—there was something beneath his paw—something that hadn’t been there before. A...note? </p>
<p>He leapt upright in less than a second, peering closely at it. He recognised the handwriting. It was Akira’s.</p>
<p>
  <em>Dear Phantom Thieves, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Since our last meeting, it has come to my attention that the traitor Akechi, though he is one who threatens to administer my death sentence, was not the one who ordered it. The identity of <span class="u">this</span> man; the true cause of all this chaos, is the politician Masayoshi Shido, whose Palace I have already identified. I believe that by stealing his heart, Akechi will cease to be a threat to us (my older self included) and that as such, we should endeavour to change his heart without delay, as we have no way of knowing when I will be forced to relinquish this form, and Akechi will become a threat again.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I should say though, that I will not stand to be sidelined in this matter. It is my life at stake here too, after all. I will not allow you to toss me aside while you infiltrate the Palace, and as I have both the MetaNav and a Persona, you cannot meaningfully keep me out. Bear that in mind before you decide to come—any argument over my involvement at this point simply constitutes a waste of time—time we need to infiltrate the Palace.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>If you wish to know how to enter the Palace, go to my old room in the Leblanc café. You will be instructed from there.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yours, </em>
  <br/>
  <em>Akira</em>
</p>
<p>Morgana read the letter several times. Was Akira...<em>blackmailing</em> them? Into letting him join the team? </p>
<p>...In fairness to him it was practically tradition at this point, but <em>still.</em> He was alive? That was a good thing, without a doubt, but where <em>was</em> he? Presumably somewhere near the Leblanc—and he’d have had to enter this room to give them the message. </p>
<p>That child! Truly, Child Akira might be the worst of all the Akiras. But he needed to wake Futaba and tell her of this.</p>
<p>He crept over to where she was sleeping, then leapt up, landing squarely on her face.</p>
<p>“AGUH!” she yelled, and sprang bolt upright, launching Morgana back off the bed and onto the floor. </p>
<p>“Hey!” he cried, jumping back onto the bed. “What was that for?”</p>
<p>“What was <em>that</em> for?” Futaba shot back. “Why did you leap on my face?”</p>
<p>“Look at this!” said Morgana, nudging the note with his nose. “Read what it says! It’s ridiculous!” </p>
<p>Futaba quickly snatched it up, though not before shooting him a glare. As her eyes scanned the lines, Morgana watched them get wider and wider, and by the end her mouth was hanging open in shock. </p>
<p>“He’s blackmailing us!” she cried. </p>
<p>“That’s exactly what I thought!” cried Morgana, waving his tail agitatedly. “He must have snuck in here during the night and dropped it off!”</p>
<p>“Where’s he been these past few hours?” asked Futaba, now blinking back tears. “We were so worried, and instead of showing up in-person he just gives us a note? Who does he think he is?”</p>
<p>“We need to tell the others,” said Morgana. “Work out what to do from here.”</p>
<p>Futaba sighed. “And we can’t tell Akechi either. Damn it. It’ll be hard to pretend to him that Akira’s still vanished once we know he’s come back though. Why did he have to go and make things so complicated?”</p>
<p>She snapped a photo of the note and presumably texted it to the group chat. Then she sighed and leant back on her bed. </p>
<p>“Okay, it’ll probably take them a little while to respond—it’s pretty early, after all.”</p>
<p>“I can’t believe he’s done this,” said Morgana, shaking his head. “I mean...do you think he’s telling the truth about this politician?”</p>
<p>Futaba suddenly perked up at that. “You know, I was so distracted by finding out he was okay I completely missed that. So he thinks Shido’s the one who ordered his death, huh? Interesting choice.”</p>
<p>“Interesting?” asked Morgana.</p>
<p>“Very,” said Futaba. “I’d been suspicious of him too—he’s really been knocking the Phantom Thieves on TV and he <em>would</em> benefit from us going out of commission. So it’s definitely possible Akira’s right.”</p>
<p>“But he says he even infiltrated his Palace,” grumbled Morgana. “Could that really be true? We saw what happened in the casino...”</p>
<p>“It <em>has</em> only been a few hours...” said Futaba. “That said, if any kid has the audacity to try and infiltrate a Palace with no backup just to prove a point, I think that kid’s definitely Akira.”</p>
<p>Futaba’s expression creased into a frown. Morgana could guess what she was thinking about. Their discussion earlier that day was definitely still haunting both of them, and Morgana couldn’t lie—the fact that Akechi of all people was the one who’d brought it up burnt like a brand. <em>He</em> shouldn’t know these things. Shouldn’t be a part of this at all. <em>He</em> wasn’t one of Akira’s friends—and he certainly didn’t have Akira’s best interests at heart. Why did he have to go and bring up the neglect? It was the one thing Akira had asked him to keep secret, and if the others questioned him on it, he’d think Morgana had betrayed him and told them. </p>
<p>Damn it. Why did this have to go and happen now? If it had happened at any other time they might have stood a decent chance of getting out of this alright, but now... He hoped that whatever it was Akira had planned, he knew more of what he was doing than Morgana did. Because he didn’t know anything at all. </p>
<p>“Oh, hey, looks like Makoto’s up!” said Futaba, suddenly perking up. She winced sharply. “Yikes, she’s not too happy about the note though.” </p>
<p>“Tell her we aren’t either,” said Morgana, hopping onto Futaba’s lap to read the incoming texts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: What was he <span class="u">thinking?</span></em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Was he even thinking at all? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Practically all day yesterday we were looking for him, and he was in a different Palace the whole time?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: And now he wants us to reform Akechi’s boss in less than a week? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Futaba Sakura: Mako, trust me, me and Morgana have just had this exact conversation. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Futaba Sakura: Kiddo’s audacious if nothing else.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Audacious???</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wow, three question marks,” mumbled Futaba. “She’s really pissed.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: This goes beyond audacious.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: We have to do something—we can’t afford to let him try and infiltrate this politician’s Palace on his own.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Futaba glanced down at Morgana, who just shrugged in response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Futaba Sakura: Yeah, but if we want to stop him we’re gonna have to meet up and agree to infiltrate ourselves, he’s made that pretty obvious.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: He almost died in the casino!</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Futaba winced. Morgana shuffled a bit closer to her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Can we really afford to let him dictate to us like this?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: Ugh, what are you guys talking about so early? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Scroll up Ryuji, and read the note Futaba posted.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Futaba Sakura: I see your point, but I’m not sure we have any choice if we want to limit the damage he could do all on his own.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Futaba Sakura: If Kid Akira’s proven anything, it’s that if he’s decided on this we have practically no way of stopping him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: In that sense he’s eerily like his older self. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Deeply inconvenient as it is.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: He’s blackmailing us??? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Futaba Sakura: Get with the picture Ryuji! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: What are we gonna do?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Undecided.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Futaba Sakura: I’m telling y’all we’ve got no choice but to head over to the Leblanc and listen to what he has to say. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ann Takamaki: But we have school today! Also hi everyone.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: Hi Ann!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Hello Ann.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: And you make a good point about school. If we are to concede to his wishes we’d need to do it <span class="u">after</span> school.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: Um, not to bring the mood down, but aren’t we missing something big here? What are we gonna do about Akechi?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Futaba swore under her breath, and Morgana dug his claws into her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Ah yes, he was with us yesterday when it all happened. He’ll be worried about Akira still. Or fake-worried. Whatever the case may be. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: It would be extremely suspicious to him if he knew that we all went to see Akira without him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: I dunno, I think Kid Akira has a grudge against him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: I mean, we all saw what he did to him yesterday. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ann Takamaki: Yeah, but he’d still totally be onto us if we all met up with Kid Akira without him for no reason, then didn’t tell him we knew he was alright beforehand. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Futaba Sakura: Ann has a point, we need some way to deal with him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Haru Okumura: Good morning everyone!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Good morning, Haru.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: Morning!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ann Takamaki: Morning Haru! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Haru Okumura: Sorry, I’ve been reading this conversation for a while, and I think I might have an answer.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Please, enlighten us.</em>
</p>
<p><em>Haru Okumura: Akira’s earlier aversion to people might work to our advantage here. Akechi-kun already knows about it, and has probably worked out Akira doesn’t like him, or large groups—so we </em> <em>could tell him Akira’s alright and that he only wanted to meet with a few of us, so he doesn’t feel too left out.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Ann Takamaki: That’s a great idea!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: I couldn’t have thought of a better one myself. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: But who’s going to meet up with Akira—and how many people should go? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yusuke Kitagawa: I would be happy to meet him. I have no other commitments today. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Haru Okumura: Oh, good morning Yusuke!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yusuke Kitagawa: Good morning. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Would Akira get along with Yusuke?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Futaba Sakura: I think Inari’s obliviousness would actually suit him. Less annoying questions for him to deal with.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yusuke Kitagawa: I’m sure you’d more than make up for those if you also intend on going.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Futaba Sakura: I can’t <span class="u">not</span> go! I’m right next door, and me and Morgana have literally nothing else to do. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: So that makes Yusuke, Futaba and Morgana. Hmm. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: We could really use someone more responsible over there. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Haru Okumura: I’d go, but I’m afraid I have company business today.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Ann? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ann Takamaki: Yeah?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ann Takamaki: Wait, you mean me? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: Yes.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ann Takamaki: Sure, I mean, if you think I’m best!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Makoto Niijima: I also have other commitments today, so you’d be the only one available.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: Hey!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ann Takamaki: Okay, see you all after school!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: We not even gonna address that?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: ...<br/></em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ryuji Sakamoto: Guys?</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Child Akira: What’s the best way for me to ensure the Phantom Thieves will let me onto their team?<br/>Child Akira: *in the tradition of almost every PT preceding him* Oh, right, blackmail. Obviously.<br/>Arsène: <em>Emotional</em> blackmail. The best kind. </p>
<p>Lots happing in this chapter! On the one hand, Akira's got his foot in the door of saving his older self by infiltrating Shido's Palace. On the other...literally no one is happy about it except him. We'll have to see how well that turns out for him—will the PTs confront him on his childhood? Will Akechi ever work out exactly what's going on with the PTs plan? Let me know what you guys think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Negotiation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To say Morgana was nervous would be an understatement. They’d all assembled outside the Leblanc: him, Futaba, Yusuke and Ann, waiting to go inside and upstairs to deal with whatever ultimatum Akira had come up with. He had expected more trouble over the next few days, what with Akira being a child, but nothing on <em>this</em> scale...</p>
<p>“Let’s just go in,” said Lady Ann, twirling her hair nervously. “I don’t want to just sit around out here doing nothing.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” said Morgana. “Just remember, he’s not like the older Akira. He’s not going to be as nice or understanding if we try to argue with him.”</p>
<p>“Got it,” said Ann, with a nod.</p>
<p>“Then let us proceed inside,” said Yusuke.</p>
<p>Sojiro glanced up in surprise as they walked through the door. </p>
<p>“Oh, you’re back,” he said. “No sign of the kid?”</p>
<p>“Not...quite yet,” said Ann, flashing a nervous grin. “Actually we just wanted to check upstairs for him—we figured he might be hiding there since it used to be his room and everything.”</p>
<p>“Well, I haven’t seen him,” said Sojiro, shrugging. “Trust me, I was searching all morning. Still, I guess you kids might have better instincts than an old man like me. Go on up.” </p>
<p>“Thank you,” said Yusuke, with a curt nod.</p>
<p>“Thanks Sojiro!” called out Futaba as they headed upstairs. </p>
<p>Then they were at the top of the stairs. The attic room hadn’t changed a bit since Morgana last saw it, all of Akira’s collections still meticulously organised around his room. </p>
<p>“Hey, we’re here!” called out Futaba, once they were safely inside. “You gonna come out or what?” </p>
<p>“Should we be so rude?” asked Yusuke, alarmed. </p>
<p>“It’s not rude—” Futaba began to insist, but she was interrupted. </p>
<p>“It kind of was. I mean, you didn’t even say please or anything.” </p>
<p>The voice had come from behind them. They all whirled around in unison, only to come face to face with the large, dark eyes of a one Akira Kurusu. </p>
<p>He was sitting on the table in the corner of the room, swinging his legs back and forth in possibly the most childish act Morgana had seen from him since he manifested in their reality. It seemed the confrontation from yesterday hadn’t left any marks on him (thank goodness) and he was now in perfectly good health again. Though that didn’t do anything to alleviate Morgana’s rising irritation.  </p>
<p>Apparently Futaba felt much the same way. </p>
<p>“You! Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” </p>
<p>Akira seemed genuinely shocked by this reception, but quickly schooled his expression back into calm neutrality. “What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“You just <em>vanished</em> on us yesterday,” said Futaba, fuming. “Twice!” </p>
<p>Akira didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed, instead just narrowing his eyes and asking, “Twice?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” said Futaba, “first at the park, then at the casino—and then you let us know you’re alright by <em>blackmailing</em> us?” </p>
<p>Akira blinked a few times, apparently processing this information. “What happened in the casino?” </p>
<p>“Don’t you know?” asked Lady Ann, peering at him curiously. This would be practically her first conversation with the younger Akira, after all.</p>
<p>Akira shook his head. “Last thing I remember in that place was passing out.” </p>
<p>“You dematerialised quite shockingly,” said Yusuke. “It caused us a fair bit of distress, being as we didn’t know if you were alive or dead.”</p>
<p>Akira <em>did</em> look a little embarrassed at that, lowering his eyes to the ground and clenching his fists. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”</p>
<p>“What’s going on with you?” asked Lady Ann, admittedly a little less subtly than Morgana would have liked. “You’ve been off ever since you came here.”</p>
<p>Predictably, this caused Akira to scowl. “Look, I didn’t <em>want</em> to come here, alright? I’m doing the best with what I have—which brings us back to why I called you here in the first place. What exactly is it you’re planning to do about Masayoshi Shido?” </p>
<p>They all exchanged awkward glances. </p>
<p>“We hadn’t exactly gotten that far yet,” said Morgana, padding over to the base of the table. “First we had to make sure you were okay.” </p>
<p>“Right,” said Akira quietly, clearly feeling awkward about it. “Well, I am okay, as you can all see, so you can tell everyone to stop panicking. That isn’t important. What’s important is how we’re going to take out this politician.”</p>
<p>“How are you so sure it’s him who’s been doing this?” asked Yusuke.</p>
<p>“He did say he infiltrated his Palace,” mumbled Futaba.</p>
<p>“Correct. I did,” said Akira, sounding much older than the ten-year-old he was. “He’s been seriously boosted in popularity since he took a strong stance against the Phantom Thieves—and along with Akechi, he’s one of the people the media are paying most attention to, so I decided to investigate. The fact he had a Palace was probably damning enough, but when I went inside it became obvious from the way people were talking within that he’s the ultimate benefactor of the mental shutdowns. It seems he even brags about it within his inner circle.”</p>
<p>Lady Ann gave a sharp sigh. “Just another asshole profiting off others’ misery.” </p>
<p>“So you’re one hundred percent certain,” said Futaba.</p>
<p>“Absolutely,” said Akira. </p>
<p>“It would be good for us to eliminate the person who ordered a hit on you,” said Yusuke, quietly. “That might grant us some reprieve from Akechi, for now, anyway.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” asked Ann. “It sounds like he has kind of a grudge against Akira if his phone-calls are anything to go by. Do we have any way of knowing he won’t go through with it even if he isn’t ordered to?” </p>
<p>Akira sighed, and raised his knees up to his chest. “I don’t know enough about Akechi to say for sure, but I can tell you that from what I heard he seems to be being deployed pretty much solely as a tool for Shido. He isn’t shutting people down independently as far as I’m aware—and if I have Shido’s personality right, then he’s way too much of a control freak to just let Akechi run wild like that anyway.”</p>
<p> “That makes sense,” said Morgana, twitching his tail. “He wouldn’t want to risk Akechi turning on him, and he wouldn’t trust him at all if he wasn’t predictable. It’s most likely he’s being used by this politician as a hitman. It doesn’t excuse his murders, but I think Akira’s right that if Shido were taken out he’d be unlikely to retaliate in a deadly way—especially if you’re still a child.”</p>
<p>“Akechi seems to possess a fondness for children,” mused Yusuke. “He got quite upset when he thought you were injured in the Palace.”</p>
<p>“It could be faked,” said Futaba.</p>
<p>“True.”</p>
<p>“He hasn’t tried to kill me yet,” said Akira. “And we’ll need to deal with Shido sooner or later anyway.”</p>
<p>“So what do you want to do?” asked Lady Ann, folding her arms. “It seems like you’ve already got a pretty good idea about what the inside of this guy’s Palace looks like.”</p>
<p>Akira sighed deeply, lowering his legs again. “It’ll be...difficult for me to get any further on my own. And I thought you’d want to know what I’d been doing, so...”</p>
<p>“Wait,” said Morgana, flicking his tail in alarm. “You mean to say you’re...asking us for help?”</p>
<p>“No,” said Akira, sharply. “I’m just...I’m asking for us to team up—that’s all.”</p>
<p>“Really?” asked Futaba, clapping her hands together in surprise. “You’d just...let us come with you?”</p>
<p>“If you agreed to help,” said Akira. “There’s no reason you shouldn’t come.”</p>
<p>“Huh,” said Lady Ann, biting her lip.</p>
<p>“How irregular,” muttered Yusuke.</p>
<p>“Look, are you going to give me an answer or not?” asked Akira, clearly agitated by how quiet they were being. </p>
<p>“Just give us a moment,” said Morgana. “There are other things we need to sort out if we’re actually considering doing this.”</p>
<p>“R-right,” said Lady Ann. “We’ve still got the other heist going on, after all.”  </p>
<p>“Other heist?” mumbled Akira. “Oh, right, you mean the one in the casino.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” said Futaba. “And more than that, we need some way to distract Akechi too—he’s not gonna be keen on us going after his boss, after all.”</p>
<p>“Why not make it into all one thing?” asked Akira. “The rest of you can distract Akechi with whatever it is you’re doing in the casino, while we start breaking into Shido’s Palace.” </p>
<p>“That’s not a bad idea,” said Yusuke, bemusedly. </p>
<p>“Of course it isn’t,” said Akira. </p>
<p>“Wait a minute,” said Morgana, sharply. This was all moving too quickly for his liking. “We need to consult the others. We can’t make a decision this important without their input—we need to be unanimous, remember?”</p>
<p>“Text them then,” said Akira. “The sooner you decide the better.”</p>
<p>Futaba quickly pulled out her phone and began tapping away at it. </p>
<p>“What will you do if we don’t all agree to help you?” asked Yusuke, tilting his head. </p>
<p>Akira narrowed his eyes and crossed his legs under him. Morgana could already guess what the true answer was—it was just whether or not Akira would admit to it. </p>
<p>“I’d deal with the Palace myself, as far as I’m able.”</p>
<p>Huh. Oddly truthful, from him. </p>
<p>“What?” asked Ann, her eyes widening. “But you can’t—it’d be super dangerous!” </p>
<p>“So?” asked Akira, stubbornly. “So’s waiting here doing nothing while we don’t know whether or not Akechi’s still planning to kill me. Just because he hasn’t <em>yet</em> doesn’t mean he won’t—and I could change back at any moment. I need to get this done, it’s—” Akira cut himself off and took a slow, shaking breath. “It’s important to me. Alright?” </p>
<p>Something seemed different about Akira—and not just his new willingness to have the others help him. </p>
<p>Morgana hopped up onto the table next to him. “Akira—you’ve woken your Persona up fully now, haven’t you?”</p>
<p>Akira jumped a little, clearly not expecting to hear that. “I, um... Yes. That’s good, isn’t it?” </p>
<p>They all exchanged glances.</p>
<p>“Well, I mean, I guess...” said Lady Ann, nervously. </p>
<p>“How’d you manage that?” asked Futaba, finally looking up from her phone. “You can’t just do it all by yourself, y’know. And you never told us what you’ve been doing since yesterday—what happened after you disappeared?”</p>
<p>Akira’s jaw clenched, and his knuckles went white as he gripped the edge of the table. He clearly didn’t want to say. His gaze became fixed firmly on the floor. </p>
<p>“Akira?” asked Yusuke, quietly. “Are you alright?”</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” Akira insisted, looking up sharply again. “I just—why does it even matter? I have my Persona now, don’t I? I can take care of myself. Stop worrying.” </p>
<p>But in spite of his strong words it was obvious Akira was disturbed, his face contorted in a strong glare, his tone uncertain. </p>
<p>Morgana knew why, of course. </p>
<p>Akira hated seeming helpless, like he needed to be ‘looked after’—that was true of both of them, not just the angry boy sat before them. He must have thought that gaining his Persona would put an end to their worries, as he could now look after himself properly in the Metaverse. Unfortunately, him still being ten, activating his Persona did little to alleviate any of their concerns. What had he done to finally manage it? Doubtless he’d put himself in danger again—maybe even gotten hurt—though it was impossible to tell just by looking at him.</p>
<p>Morgana inched a bit closer to him, and Akira didn’t push him away. He seemed to like him more than the other Phantom Thieves—that was something, at least. </p>
<p>“You sure you’re up to going into that Palace?” asked Futaba, doubtfully.</p>
<p>Akira glowered at her. “I told you, I’ve been in before—going in isn’t a problem for me. The point is; is it a problem for you?”</p>
<p>Futaba sighed and put her phone away. “The others have all agreed we should go after Shido, so no, I guess it’s not.” </p>
<p>“They did?” asked Akira. He sounded genuinely surprised. </p>
<p>Futaba nodded. </p>
<p>“So...you will help me?” he asked. “And you won’t try to keep me out?”</p>
<p>Yusuke chuckled. “Somehow I doubt that would help at this stage.”</p>
<p>“Don’t tell him that!” cried Futaba, but it was too late, because Akira was already smiling smugly. </p>
<p>“You’re right, it wouldn’t.” </p>
<p>“So, we’re all decided then?” asked Lady Ann.</p>
<p>“Not quite,” said Futaba. “We need to get everyone in a room together to decide what we’re gonna do about the casino and how we’re gonna infiltrate Shido’s Palace. That all good with you, Akira?” </p>
<p>Akira nodded. </p>
<p>“Okay!” cried Lady Ann, visibly relieved. “Glad we got all that sorted.”</p>
<p>“The others have said they can all get here in a couple of hours,” said Futaba.</p>
<p>“That’s fine,” said Akira, though he looked exhausted. “At least we can get it all done today.”</p>
<p>“So,” said Futaba, a menacing look in her eyes once more, “you gonna tell us what you’ve been doing, Akira?” </p>
<hr/>
<p>“C’mon Akira,” groaned Ann, clearly exasperated.</p>
<p>“No,” Akira said flatly. It hadn’t worked the first three times and it wasn’t going to work now. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business how I awakened my Persona. This is <em>my</em> soul we’re talking about, isn’t it? Why <em>should</em> you know what woke it up?”</p>
<p>They were down one hour of waiting, but Akira wasn’t sure he could stick two. This lot were getting unbearable. The constant bombardment of questions was bad enough, but them enquiring about how he’d awakened Arsène specifically was setting him on-edge. They didn’t seem to know about the Velvet Room, and Akira wasn’t exactly sure how to explain it, even if he’d wanted to. How could he explain a construction of his dreams that he knew to be real? How could he assure them he hadn’t panicked because he’d been having strange, half-real dreams for as long as he could remember? </p>
<p>It wasn’t just because he had a Persona that he had these visions, that much was obvious, but...he didn’t want to single himself out as different. Nor did he want to expose his older self to their wrath—given he’d clearly decided to keep it to himself. So he deflected. Again.</p>
<p>“What’s taking everyone so long?”</p>
<p>Futaba gave a put-upon sigh. “Well, Makoto’s definitely been held up by having to explain everything to Akechi so he doesn’t get suspicious. As for the others...I dunno why they’re taking so long.”</p>
<p>“Ryuji probably had to go home and get changed if he was running,” sighed Ann.</p>
<p>“And I believe Haru was busy today anyway, correct?” said Yusuke.</p>
<p>“Oh yeah, Haru just texted to say she’ll be done in like, half an hour,” said Futaba, tapping the screen.</p>
<p>Akira sighed. More waiting then. His least favourite thing.</p>
<p>“How did you figure out it was this politician guy anyway?” asked Ann. “We’ve been thinking about this since the beginning of the month but we couldn’t come up with anything.”</p>
<p>“We’ve been otherwise occupied!” insisted Morgana loudly from where he sat on the table next to Akira. Akira massaged his ears. </p>
<p>“Intuition, I guess,” he said.</p>
<p>“Hmm, you <em>have</em> always had a talent for seeing things we cannot,” said Yusuke, pensively. </p>
<p>“Yeah, in Palaces,” said Futaba. “Not like...this.”</p>
<p>Akira shrugged. “When I found out from Morgana that you guys were the Phantom Thieves I read a bunch of news articles to see if I could work out what was going on. Akechi’s been your most fierce critic in the media...until now. That title was recently taken from him by Shido—which was why I got suspicious of him. He’s capitalising off your unpopularity, and if Akechi’s assassination went through he’d been vindicated by public opinion. It stands to reason that if there’s anyone out there powerful enough to order a hit on me it would be some sort of slimy politician, don’t you think?” </p>
<p>Akira found that everyone was suddenly staring at him very intently. He wasn’t sure he liked this development. In fact, he was quite sure he <em>dis</em>liked it.</p>
<p>“What?” he said, their continued silence unnerving him.</p>
<p>“That was some quite impressive deduction,” said Yusuke.</p>
<p>“I’ll say,” said Futaba. “And you went to check and it turned out you were right?” </p>
<p>Akira nodded.</p>
<p>“But that’s amazing!” cried Ann, clapping her hands together. “Practically Makoto-level genius!”</p>
<p>Akira had to assume that was a compliment. </p>
<p>“Uh, thanks? I guess?” He somehow felt more uncomfortable now than he ever had in their presence before. “It really is nothing—it’s not like I’ve had anything else to think about.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps that’s why the older you didn’t work it out,” said Morgana, flicking his tail. “He’s had a lot on his plate, after all.”</p>
<p>Great, they’d moved on from weird compliments to talking about his older self again. Out of the frying pan into the fire. </p>
<p>“That’s true,” said Ann, leaning back in her seat. “Between managing us in the Palace, keeping everything secret from Akechi and all those part-time jobs he does I’m not surprised he hasn’t had time to think about who might have ordered the hit.”</p>
<p>That sounded about right from what Akira had read in the journal...</p>
<p>
  <em>I keep thinking I need to work out who’s the one ordering Akechi to do this, but I don’t have time, and my mind’s all a blur from just trying to keep the whole scheme imploding in on itself. I need to keep the others’ spirits up—we can’t risk a break now. </em>
</p>
<p>At least they seemed aware of how hard he’d been working. Perhaps this really was the best they could do... </p>
<p>“Hey guys!” called up a new voice from the bottom of the stairs.</p>
<p>In what seemed like a mere two leaps, Ryuji Sakamoto bounded into the room, as energetic and cheerful as he had been in Akira’s dream. </p>
<p>“Oh hey,” he said, upon catching sight of Akira. “Nice to finally meet you...uh...”</p>
<p>“Just call me Akira,” said Akira. </p>
<p>“Right,” said Ryuji, though he still didn’t look entirely comfortable. “Of course... So we got a plan ready or anything?”</p>
<p>“No,” said Akira before anyone could reply. “We do not have a plan ready. I think we should get started as soon as possible.” </p>
<p>Futaba and Morgana glared at him, while Ann, Yusuke and Ryuji all just looked uncomfortable.</p>
<p>Eventually Futaba huffed and said, “Fine, you win—what’s the inside of Shido’s Palace like?” </p>
<p>“I’m not telling you what it is until you all promise you won’t kick me out as soon as you get in,” said Akira, fully aware that was exactly what Morgana was itching to do. “But I <em>can</em> tell you the door to the Treasure’s blocked by five keycards hidden somewhere else in the Palace. I’m not sure where, or if there’s any other criteria I’m missing.” </p>
<p>“Five keycards, huh?” asked Ryuji. “That does sound like a lot.”</p>
<p>“Hence why I asked for your help.”</p>
<p>Ryuji snorted at that, and Akira glared at him. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” he said, “it’s just...do you always talk like that?” </p>
<p>“Yes,” said Akira, sharply. “Is there something wrong with the way I talk?” </p>
<p>“No,” said Ryuji, but he was still grinning in a highly offensive manner, “it’s just a bit different, that’s all! Nothing wrong with it.” </p>
<p>“I told him he speaks like an old man,” said Futaba.</p>
<p>Akira turned his glare on her. “And what’s that got to do with anything?”</p>
<p>To his irritation, Ann started grinning too. “Nothing, it’s just weird you talk so formally when the older you sounds way more...”</p>
<p>“Teenagery?” offered Ryuji.</p>
<p>“Yeah!” </p>
<p>“Sounds like you swallowed an encyclopaedia buddy,” said Futaba. </p>
<p>“What <em>is</em> this?” asked Akira, folding his arms furiously. “Critique Akira Day?” </p>
<p>Besides, his older self sounded plenty formal in his diary. Akira recognised his style of thought and writing as being more or less the same as his own—but it seemed his speech had changed as he’d gotten older. More...teenagery. It was strange—he’d have thought they’d choose his accent to pick on more than anything else, but he supposed the fact he did speak so ‘formally’ disguised his odd pronunciation. He wondered if his older self’s ‘teenagery’ voice had a Tokyo accent... It would be easier to blend into the crowd that way, after all. </p>
<p>Blending in was one thing that Akira prided himself on, most of the time. But his usual methods didn’t seem to work with teenagers. Perhaps that was why his older self had chosen to sound different? Perhaps that was why none of his friends seemed quite able to see him clearly... It was an odd thought. </p>
<p>“Aw, don’t get all offended,” said Ryuji, which earned him a kick in the shins from Ann. </p>
<p>Akira sighed heavily and unfolded his arms. How did they ever get anything done with this chaos? </p>
<p>“Anyway, as I was saying: five keycards.” </p>
<p>“It might be easiest for us to split up into groups and try and go after them that way if we want to get it done quickly,” said Futaba. </p>
<p>“We need to work out what they even are first,” said Morgana. “It’s a Palace, so I can practically guarantee they won’t just be normal cards.” </p>
<p>“Right,” sighed Ann. “As usual, everything’s going to be complicated.” </p>
<p>“Do you guys not normally come up with a strategy before entering a Palace?” asked Akira. </p>
<p>“Not usually, no,” said Yusuke.</p>
<p>“Their shifting nature makes it hard to come up with a plan before you get inside,” said Morgana. </p>
<p>“Right.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t like they needed to get that involved in the planning anyway—Akira could handle pretty much all of that himself. No, the thing they needed to help with was the fighting...that was, if they agreed at all. </p>
<hr/>
<p>It wasn’t too long after that that Haru appeared, flashing him a smile as she did, and then, finally, Makoto arrived. All the Phantom Thieves were present. It was time. </p>
<p>“So,” said Makoto, kicking off the meeting, “you’ve discovered Shido’s Palace?” </p>
<p>“I have,” said Akira.</p>
<p>“Well then,” she said, “what and where is it?” </p>
<p>She sounded a bit like a school teacher reprimanding a misbehaving child, and Akira took an instant dislike to her. </p>
<p>“I think I mentioned in my note: I will not tell you what Shido’s Palace is until you promise not to exclude me. I have to be part of this. And, now I have a Persona of my own, you have no reason to keep me out.” </p>
<p>Makoto sighed exasperatedly and unfolded her arms. “There are plenty of reasons—you could get badly hurt if you entered the Palace, even with our guidance.” </p>
<p>Akira sat up straight and looked directly into her eyes. “And I could <em>die</em> if we don’t. I have a right to be there when you take down the Palace, seeing as this is the man who ordered my death.”</p>
<p>“Akira—”</p>
<p>“Do you think he’d want this?” </p>
<p>Makoto paused and blinked. “What?”</p>
<p>“My older self,” said Akira. “Do you think he’d want you to do this? To keep me out of everything, pretend it isn’t happening—try to force me to stand aside while you do all the work?” </p>
<p>“Well, there’s no way of knowing that...” said Makoto, but she was looking pointedly away from him. She knew what the older him would want.</p>
<p>“I won’t get hurt,” said Akira. “I can defend myself, and I have powers all my own.” </p>
<p>Makoto gave another deep sigh. “You really won’t be convinced, will you?”</p>
<p>“No.” </p>
<p>She looked around the table at the other Phantom Thieves, all of whom were looking awkward and uncertain. She frowned even harder.</p>
<p>“Fine,” she said. Akira tilted his head. He hadn’t expected her to acquiesce so easily. “On one condition.”</p>
<p>Typical.</p>
<p>“And what is that?” </p>
<p>“From now on, don’t go into the Palace alone. We’ll help you steal the Treasure, but we need to be there when you do. Safety in numbers.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t ideal, but it was definitely better than nothing. </p>
<p>“Alright,” he said. “Shido’s Palace is a ship. And it’s located in the Diet Building.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Literally all the PTs, as soon as they realise Akira activated Arsene fully: So, how'd you manage that kiddo? What trauma have you inflicted on yourself now?<br/>Child Akira: None of your business. Why does it even matter?<br/>PTs: Because we care about you?<br/>Child Akira: Lies and slander. </p>
<p>Despite having come to the realisation that maybe the PTs perhaps aren't actually all bad, Kid!Akira's still prickly as a cactus. Sure, they can care about older!Akira, clearly he's a stand-up guy, but him? Someone caring about baby Akira? No way. Not happening. </p>
<p>And how're they gonna decide how to deal with the whole Shido-Akechi thing? Feel free to let me know what you guys think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Self-Destruction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fortunately, after all that conflict, it didn’t take them long to come to an agreement. Makoto, Futaba and Ryuji would help Akechi in breaking through to the treasure in Sae’s Palace, claiming that Akira had finally agreed to let them do so in his absence. Meanwhile, he, Morgana, Haru, Yusuke and Ann would gather information on the keycards in Shido’s Palace. That way they could be sure Akechi wouldn’t go inside himself—if he even knew about it. It was all happening tomorrow. And Akira couldn’t sleep. </p>
<p>A sort of spectre seemed to be hanging over him; a nameless menace that emanated from somewhere deep within the earth. Something was watching him. Waiting...</p>
<p>Morgana twitched in his sleep. It appeared his dreams were disturbed too. </p>
<p>Akira rolled over, wrapping his arms around himself to try and stave off the cold. And it was so cold... </p>
<p>He closed his eyes but it seemed to do him little good. It was like there was a presence just behind him, crouched by his bed, claws hovering ominously over his back. </p>
<p>He quickly turned over—heart thundering in his chest. There was nothing there. He lay on his back, eyes wide open. </p>
<p>
  <em>And I’m worried about what will happen if I die, and Igor’s still out there...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>God, I’m so tired...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m afraid we’re about to fall into the abyss...</em>
</p>
<p>Thoughts half-his and half-not floated in and out of his mind, whispering to him—talking to him. </p>
<p>A blue prison awaited him in the depths of the earth, a desk with a...with a what? Something was there but he couldn’t quite see. Three figures, shadowy and undefined. He closed his eyes and they grew sharper. He opened them, and his vision was black. Closing them again, the room began to manifest, bit by bit, inch by inch, and Akira shied away from the bars this time, wary of the creature awaiting him on the other side. </p>
<p>It was reaching for him, but he wasn’t quite there. </p>
<p>The two smaller figures spoke, but their voices were blurry and unclear, as though muffled by water. He recognised them. But he did not. His mind span itself in circles, trying to perceive what lay before him, but also trying to escape the largest creature’s grasp. The claws got sharper the more he saw, and the more he saw the more he fell into the thing’s trap. Was ignorance bliss? Would it free him? Or was this all just some kind of strange illusion? The claws almost had him, sharp needles digging into his skin, pulling him through—he kicked—tried to yank his arm away and—</p>
<p>He sat bolt upright, shaking, his nightclothes slick with sweat. He looked down at the arm he was sure the creature had grasped—but it appeared to be intact. </p>
<p>Maybe it <em>was</em> all just a dream. But it hadn’t felt like it. </p>
<p>He got up from his blanket, shivering at the sudden cold, and wandered through to the kitchen. He dragged a stool over to the sink, then ran the water until it was fairly warm, splashing his face in an effort to wake himself up. The sun was just beginning to rise. Sojiro wouldn’t be up for another hour.</p>
<p>He returned the stool to its proper place, then went back through to the living room and got changed, his jumper at least ensuring he didn’t freeze to death. He settled himself on the sofa, resolving that he’d wait until everyone else was up. There was little else he <em>could</em> do. </p>
<p>He clutched his bag close to his chest as he sat there, chin on his knees, waiting for the rest of the household to wake. In it was the diary that had finally given him a purpose in this world. He couldn’t stand to have it more than a few metres away from him now—it felt as vital to him as Arsène did, resting deep within his soul. Besides, if he <em>did</em> suddenly turn back into his older self...well. He had a feeling he’d want to have it. </p>
<p>It wasn’t too long before Morgana, ever-reliable when it came to working out something was wrong, woke up, and jumped onto the sofa next to him. He didn’t say anything, instead just curling up by his side, and observing the living room in silence next to him. Akira suspected his older self might have had nightmares too. Either way, he was grateful for the quiet. </p>
<p>Eventually, when the sun had fully risen, bathing the room in a dull, grey, November glow, Sojiro appeared.</p>
<p>“Ah, you’re awake,” he said. This time he didn’t seem surprised. “Have you already had breakfast?”</p>
<p>Akira shook his head. He hadn’t the energy to make himself breakfast. And he didn’t feel especially hungry anyway. </p>
<p>“Would you like me to get you something?”</p>
<p>Akira stared at the old man, his neat brown hair, his tired old eyes, the way he looked down over his glasses to convey a near-constant air of mild disapproval. He didn’t look anything like Futaba. But he seemed genuine enough. </p>
<p>“Sure,” said Akira, though it was an effort to get the words out. “I don’t mind.” </p>
<p>“Any preference?”</p>
<p>Akira just shrugged. He wasn’t going to taste whatever it was anyway. His senses were dulled, his mind still not fully assembled. He was tired, but he could not sleep... Whatever affliction it was his older self had acquired from his dealings in the Velvet Room, Akira hoped it didn’t last too long. There was only so much even <em>he</em> could take, after all. </p>
<p>Sojiro left quickly, and didn’t ask any questions about why Akira looked so tired, for his exhaustion must be showing on his face. It was just as well. He was in no position to explain anyway. </p>
<p>It wasn’t long before he returned with a bowl of the cereal Akira had bought the day before, and set it down on the table in front of him.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” said Akira.</p>
<p>No point being rude, after all.</p>
<p>“You gonna be okay here for today?” asked Sojiro, glancing up the hallway towards the door. </p>
<p>“I’ll be fine,” said Akira. “Don’t worry about me.”</p>
<p>Sojiro blinked a couple of times at that, but did not protest, instead just shaking his head and going to grab his coat. </p>
<p>“I take it you’re not planning on going missing again this time,” he said, just as he was about to head out of the door. It sounded a little like a threat. </p>
<p>“I won’t get in trouble,” said Akira. </p>
<p>Sojiro gave a curt nod, then headed out. </p>
<p>“Liar,” muttered Morgana next to him. </p>
<p>Akira batted him around the ears, then started slowly began to eat the cereal. Once he was done he went to wash up, then returned to his place on the sofa, where he sat, and he waited. He wasn’t sure <em>what</em> he was waiting for exactly—just that he was waiting. Perhaps for a sign? </p>
<p>He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there when Morgana got up and asked, “Hey, are you okay?”</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” said Akira automatically. And it was true. Sort of. Nothing was <em>wrong.</em> So he was...fine. </p>
<p>“Do you...wanna do something today?” </p>
<p>Morgana was staring at him with his large blue eyes, his tone concerned. </p>
<p><em>Did</em> Akira want to do something today? He wanted to infiltrate the Palace, wanted to track down the keycards, wanted to make it so Shido could never hurt anyone ever again. But they were planning to do that this afternoon, once everyone was out of school. And until then... </p>
<p>Did he want to do something? </p>
<p>Normally, on days like today, when there was nothing ahead and nothing behind—nothing but time and space to fill—nothing but eternal emptiness pressing down on him, trying to crush him under its weight—he would go off alone, and fill that nether-space with pointless distractions. Fishing, schoolwork, drawing, and if he felt like it, maybe even writing. All of them were activities best done alone. All of them let him withdraw into his own head, with no need to worry about the world outside, or the empty pointlessness of it all.</p>
<p>He’d always had a sense that there was something greater waiting for him out there—something he just had to bide his time for. When his day of destiny arrived, then he’d finally be pulled out of this ceaseless abyss of boredom, then he’d at last have some sort of purpose in life. </p>
<p>It seemed that for his older self that day had finally arrived. But he was stealing it from him. And the boredom that had always plagued him had made itself known too—even in the midst of all this chaos. </p>
<p>He had no right to be here—a spectre—a memory, stealing hours and days from his older self the longer he persisted in this world—stealing the moment he’d been waiting for all his life out from under him. </p>
<p>Would he remember this? Akira didn’t remember him...</p>
<p>What did he want to do today? </p>
<p>There was no peace in the city, no matter where he looked for it. His older self had formed attachments, attachments that refused to let him go, that misunderstood the workings of his mind and sought to keep him from all that was waiting for him. If he could have one wish granted it would be to have them all leave him alone—just for a moment. He was drowning.</p>
<p>All he could do today was try to stay afloat. </p>
<p>“Nothing.” </p>
<p>“Nothing?” asked Morgana, surprised. </p>
<p>“Nothing,” said Akira. “Not until the others get here.” </p>
<p>“Are you sure?”</p>
<p>Akira did not reply. </p>
<p>“If...that’s what you think is best.” </p>
<p>Morgana hopped off the couch and padded off down the hall, presumably to indulge in Futaba’s more interesting company. </p>
<p>And Akira sat. And he waited.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“He’s still just sitting there,” Futaba muttered. “Think he’s doing what Akira used to in Palaces sometimes? You know, when he’d just zone out?”</p>
<p>“No,” said Morgana, quietly. “This is different. He’s aware of where he is...although, I think just barely.”</p>
<p>“Can we really just leave him like that?” Futaba wondered, biting her lip. </p>
<p>She didn’t know what to make of this strange change that had come over Akira. One moment he was forcing them into investigating Shido’s Palace, the next he was sitting in the living room, dead to the world around him? Something was off—and it was more than just his de-aged state. </p>
<p>“He’s not sick or anything,” said Morgana. “And he doesn’t seem to be upset, just...”</p>
<p>Unconscious. His eyes were open but it couldn’t be plainer that he had no interest in what was going on around him. </p>
<p>Futaba knew what it felt like. To sit, for hours at a time, wondering what on earth the point was. It hadn’t happened often, but when it had... Surely there had to be some way to draw Akira back out of his little bubble? But what? He didn’t seem to have any hobbies, and the things that her Akira did—the normal Akira—were very different from what was available to him. </p>
<p>He couldn’t go to school, and he seemed to want nothing less than to have to talk to any of the other Phantom Thieves. He didn’t like new places, so going out to a new district of Tokyo to explore was completely out (besides, Futaba would hate it too) and other than talking to his acquaintances and hanging around the streets of Tokyo like a stray cat, it occurred to Futaba that she honestly didn’t <em>know</em> if there was anything else the normal Akira liked to do.</p>
<p>It was an unsettling thought. </p>
<p>“Maybe we should just go and try to talk to him,” she suggested, though not with too much enthusiasm. </p>
<p>“Maybe,” said Morgana. “Dunno if he’s actually gonna respond to us though.”</p>
<p>“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” said Futaba, before marching through the door and into the living room proper. </p>
<p>“I’m not getting involved!” Morgana called out after her.</p>
<p>Akira did not look up as she entered. </p>
<p>“Hi Akira,” she said, going up to stand right in front of him. </p>
<p>He blinked slowly, and sluggishly raised his head to look at her. His dark eyes were bloodshot, and it seemed shadows were beginning to form around them. Hadn’t he been sleeping properly?</p>
<p>“Hi,” he said quietly, then resumed staring off into the middle-distance. </p>
<p>“Did you get much sleep last night?” </p>
<p>He frowned a bit at that, but didn’t turn to look at her. “Dunno.”</p>
<p>“Dunno?” she repeated. “How do <em>not know</em> how much sleep you had?”</p>
<p>He shrugged. “Dunno.”</p>
<p>God, Morgana was right about him, he was infuriating. Still—he wasn’t quite in his right mind. And he’d always been there for her, even in her worst moods. It was only right to repay the kindness. </p>
<p>“Do you...wanna go out today?” she asked.</p>
<p>“No.” </p>
<p>...In fairness, she’d set herself up for that one. </p>
<p>“How about you come and play some more video games with me?”</p>
<p>“Don’t want to.” </p>
<p>“Well—what <em>do</em> you wanna do? You can’t just sit down here like a mopey puppet until after school!”</p>
<p>Akira didn’t respond, continuing to stare at the wall.</p>
<p>“Hello? Are you even listening to me?” </p>
<p>She waved a hand in front of his face, just to try and aggravate him into moving, but he didn’t react at all. She sighed and backed off. This really wasn’t working. </p>
<p>“Hey,” she said, trying to adopt a softer tone, “we just wanna make sure you’re alright, y’know.” </p>
<p>Akira fixed his eyes on her face again. He looked so tired. Then again—why wouldn’t he be? He’d been into two Palaces in five days, and spent a large part of those five days in the Metaverse anyway—and the Metaverse was tiring as hell. It made sense he was exhausted. </p>
<p>“I’m fine,” he repeated, like an eerie parrot. “Don’t worry about me.”</p>
<p>“You really hate other people caring about you, huh?” </p>
<p>She wasn’t quite sure why she said it—it just seemed to slip out of its own accord. She didn’t expect Akira to react.</p>
<p>“No,” he said, regaining a trace of his usual sharpness. “I hate all your time-wasting and nosiness. You all seem to think I’m some kind of helpless little doll. You’re wrong.” </p>
<p>“What are you talking about?” asked Futaba. “We don’t think you’re helpless.”</p>
<p>“Then<em> act</em> like it and just leave me alone.” </p>
<p>Something was being direly miscommunicated here. She sat down on the table in the middle of the room, peering down at Akira, who was still resolutely looking away from her. </p>
<p>“You think I’m down here talking to you because I think you’re helpless?” she asked.</p>
<p>“Why else would you be here?” asked Akira. He was looking away from her, but it was deliberate now—angry. That was good—at least he was fully awake. “Why else would you all keep on bothering me? It’s always, ‘Akira are you alright?’ or ‘Akira don’t you know this is dangerous?’ Of course I know! I’m not <em>stupid.</em> And I’m always alright. Why would I be anything else?” </p>
<p>“You seem angry,” Futaba tried tentatively. </p>
<p>“I’m angry at <em>you!”</em> he seethed, now turning his full attention to her. “If there was any conceivable way I could do this alone, believe me, I would do it. The only thing you people have done for me since I got into the future is try your hardest to <em>ruin</em> everything!” </p>
<p>Fury seemed to spark off him in waves, and his voice, though still high, was filled with menace. She remembered their confrontation back in the village of Mota, remembered his terror and fury at being cornered—his Persona itching to try and curse them all into the void. It was probably a good thing there was little he could do here in reality.</p>
<p>“How could you think that?” she asked, unable to keep the anger and disbelief from her own voice. “All we’ve been trying to do is help you!”</p>
<p>“And you haven’t <em>once</em> asked <em>my</em> opinion on it!” Akira hissed, now physically shaking with rage. “I don’t know why you think it is I’m just some miserable little puppet whose very existence is a problem to be solved—but I’m the one helping <em>you!</em> My older self was going to die for you, and I’m trying to save him while you all sit around moping about how <em>difficult</em> it is to ‘manage’ me—<em>you’re</em> the <em>useless</em> ones! I’ve spent every <em>second</em> of my life here trying to help, while all <em>you</em> do is get in the way!” </p>
<p>He was now standing on the sofa, his small face contorted with fury as he glowered at her. Was that really what he thought? That they were all useless? That they didn’t care about him at all?</p>
<p>“That isn’t right!” she tried to insist, but it was difficult with the tears rising to her eyes. It wasn’t fair! She was angry for God’s sake—she shouldn’t be crying! But fat tears were already rolling down her cheeks. “We <em>care</em> about you Akira! We just don’t want you to get hurt!” </p>
<p>“I’m not even <em>real!”</em> he screeched—and at that moment, something small and furry shot into to the room. </p>
<p>“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE!” yelled Morgana as loudly as he could. Which was surprisingly loud given how tiny he was. His fur was fluffed out at all angles, and it was clear he was incredibly stressed. </p>
<p>“What are you two <em>screeching</em> about?” he hissed, now at a slightly more normal volume. </p>
<p>Akira hopped off the sofa, still practically vibrating with rage and stormed off into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. </p>
<p>“What <em>happened?”</em> asked Morgana, rounding on her as his fur began to smooth out. “You were supposed to watch a movie with him or something—not getting into a screaming match!”</p>
<p>“He <em>started</em> it!” cried Futaba, wiping away her tears furiously. “He said we were ruining his life!” </p>
<p>“Okay, that does sound a bit out of order,” said Morgana, his fur a little smoother, “but did it really warrant all that?”</p>
<p>“It did,” said Futaba stubbornly, though her voice was trembling. “He absolutely deserved it.” </p>
<p>“What happened?” asked Morgana, jumping up next to her on the table. “How did it escalate like that?” </p>
<p>Futaba sniffed and wiped her nose, trying to fight back the torrent of tears she knew was coming. “I <em>was</em> just asking him what he wanted to do,” she said, sniffing. “And he was getting all defensive, like he always does—and then...”</p>
<p>She cut herself off, and jumped up from the table, going to grab some tissues from the bookshelf as an unwilling sob escaped her. </p>
<p>“Take your time,” sighed Morgana, watching her as she went to sit down on the sofa opposite him. </p>
<p>“He implied I was only checking up—<em>we</em> were only checking up on him because we thought he was useless and couldn’t do anything himself.”</p>
<p>Morgana scowled. “It’s nothing of the sort! We’re just <em>worried</em> about him!” </p>
<p>“That’s what <em>I</em> tried to tell him!” said Futaba, through breaths. “But he wasn’t listening, he started going on about what a hindrance we’ve been and how all he’s been trying to do is help is older self, while we just get in the way—really going for it, you know?”</p>
<p>Morgana nodded, but his eyes were downcast.</p>
<p>“Anyway, then I tried to tell him it was just because we didn’t want him to get hurt and—you came in.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” he sighed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if Sojiro shows up soon y’know. You guys were making a hell of a racket.” </p>
<p>Futaba gave a half-laugh half-sob. “Yeah, I bet.”</p>
<p>“What was that last thing he said though, just as I was coming in?” </p>
<p>Futaba thought about it. “I’m not even...real? I think that’s what he said.”</p>
<p>“Kind of a weird response,” noted Morgana, staring off down the hallway that led to the kitchen door. “Think he’ll be okay?”</p>
<p>“According to him he’s <em>always</em> okay,” said Futaba, bitterly. “I say we leave him to it.” </p>
<p>Morgana sighed. “I’m going to check up on him.”</p>
<p>“Well don’t come crying to me when you get your head bitten off.”</p>
<p>“I won’t.”</p>
<p>And with that, he jumped off the table and headed down the hall, leaving Futaba alone in the living room. She wiped away the last of her tears, then sank deep into the sofa. She almost wished it would swallow her alive. </p>
<p>She didn’t want to think about Akira and his selfish, arrogant, tantrum-throwing younger self but...that last remark was stuck in her head. </p>
<p>
  <em>‘I’m not even real!’</em>
</p>
<p>What did it mean? Did Akira think he was fake, somehow, because of his age? <em>Was</em> he even real? He was the product of a status-effect, after all, not the real, genuine ten-year-old Akira, who’d apparently spent his entire childhood in a sleepy village where no one cared about him. Part of her felt sorry for him. A larger, angrier part thought that with a personality like that, it was no wonder no one cared about him at that age. </p>
<p>It was a horrible thought. </p>
<p>But it lingered.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Akira was crying. Again. </p>
<p>He hated crying—hated how it screwed up his face, made his throat feel like someone had rubbed sandpaper all over it, and stung his eyes until he could barely see. He hated crying, he hated being angry, and he hated the future, where everything in the universe seemed to be stacked to try and extinguish him from it altogether. </p>
<p>Everything was so <em>wrong</em> here! Why was it that everyone his older self had ever been even mildly acquainted with seemed to be out to make his life miserable? Why didn’t they <em>understand?</em> He was just trying to make things right. He was just trying to stay out of the way, stay out of sight—like he’d always done. Everyone back home just accepted it. No one checked up on him. No one bothered him about his health, about how he was <em>feeling.</em> No one cared. And that... That was far easier than this. </p>
<p>He wished he could just live in the Metaverse all the time, where there was nothing and no one—just the Shadows and the spirits. No one to talk to him—bother him about school work, or whether he was eating enough, or putting his life in danger, or...anything, really. A world with no one but him and his Personas. That was a perfect world. </p>
<p><em>Would you truly be content with such a world?</em> Arsène muttered at the edges of his hearing. </p>
<p>It would be better than this one. Better by far. </p>
<p>
  <em>There would be no one you could help. </em>
</p>
<p>So what? Helping people was a hassle—everything was a hassle. Life with other people was a constant battle of wills—would they win or would he? If he lost he died—and that had never been more clear than it was now. </p>
<p>
  <em>Not everyone is trying to kill you.</em>
</p>
<p>Perhaps not, but they wouldn’t care if he died. They thought they’d be better off without him, even if they were too cowardly to act on it. He could tell just by the way they acted. Why was his older self friends with such terrible people? Or was that not the point? Couldn’t it be that saving them just a convenient excuse for throwing his worthless life away?</p>
<p>He expected Arsène to interject—to protest—but he did not. So he must be partially right then. Seemed they weren’t nearly so different as everyone thought. Was it even worth trying to save his own life? If they all wanted him dead so damned badly...</p>
<p>The door creaked open, and Morgana’s small black and white face appeared in the gap. </p>
<p>“What do you want?” snapped Akira. “Here to lecture me some more?”</p>
<p>Morgana's ears flicked back in annoyance, but he padded into the room regardless, walking right up to Akira. He didn’t say anything. </p>
<p>
  <em>“What?” </em>
</p>
<p>He just stared at him in silence. </p>
<p>“Fine,” Akira huffed, “don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear it anyway.”</p>
<p>He rested his head on his knees and turned pointedly away from Morgana. The cat didn’t say anything, didn’t even try to walk into view. Akira could just pretend he didn’t exist—pretend he was alone once more—pretend that none of it really mattered. He could...</p>
<p>He closed his eyes and hid his face, not wanting Morgana to watch him crying. Why did he even care? The stupid cat had probably only come to tell him off for shouting, or laugh at the fact that on top of everything else he was a crybaby too. Why was he just sitting there? Why couldn’t they all just vanish off the face of the earth? </p>
<p>He turned to make sure Morgana was actually still there. He was, his unceasing gaze fixed on Akira’s back. </p>
<p>“Leave me alone,” he hissed, glowering at him. </p>
<p>Morgana did not reply. He’d throw the stupid cat out if he had to. </p>
<p>“<em>Why</em> are you here?” </p>
<p>“I wanted to know what happened,” said Morgana.</p>
<p>Akira snorted. “Hasn’t Futaba already told you?”</p>
<p>“She told me what <em>she</em> thought,” he said. “I wanted to hear it from you.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“To get a balance of opinions, obviously.”</p>
<p>Akira didn’t stop glaring as he turned back to face Morgana. “We probably shouted loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear. What do you even want to know?” </p>
<p>“Why did you start shouting at Futaba?” </p>
<p>“I didn’t—” Akira began, but quickly cut himself off. “I didn’t <em>want</em> to.”</p>
<p>“But you did.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, so what?”</p>
<p>Morgana frowned. “She’s upset.”</p>
<p>“<em>I’m</em> upset.” </p>
<p>Morgana crept a bit closer. “What were you arguing about?” </p>
<p>Akira blinked several times, trying to ignore the tears rising to his eyes. “Does it matter?”</p>
<p>“Well, we don’t want it to happen again, do we?”</p>
<p>“It’s <em>not</em> my fault,” Akira snapped.</p>
<p>Morgana did not reply. Which was just as well because it <em>was</em> his fault. He was the one who shouted. He was the one who was weird and stand-offish and so vastly, impossibly inferior to his older self. His older self who solved everyone’s problems, who was always nice, always polite—who had formed strong bonds with these people—who would throw his life away for them without a moment’s hesitation. Now replaced by an angry, self-centred, interfering little brat who hated them all. Was it any wonder they couldn’t stand him? Was it any wonder they hated having him around?</p>
<p>“Listen,” he hissed, though his voice trembled, “it’s perfectly obvious you all wish I’d just disappear as soon as possible. I understand how it is. <em>All</em> I want while you’re waiting for that to happen is to be left <em>alone</em>. Do you get that? You don’t even have to talk to me when we’re not infiltrating the Palace. Now shove off.” </p>
<p>“Who says we don’t want to talk to you?” asked Morgana, tilting his head. </p>
<p>“Don’t condescend to me,” snarled Akira. “It’s obvious. You hate me and you wish I could just turn back to being my older self so you don’t have to deal with any of this bullshit.” Morgana flinched at the word but Akira carried on regardless. “You wish I’d never discovered Shido. You wish I’d just disappear so you don’t have to think about it. Well guess what—I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be, so if you could all just back off and deal with the fact that doing this is going to <em>help</em> then that would be great.” </p>
<p>Morgana crouched down close to the floor, making himself smaller. He was still frowning. “You think the others hate you?”</p>
<p>“It’s perfectly obvious they don’t like having to talk to me.”</p>
<p>“I thought your discussion with them went well yesterday.”</p>
<p>Had it? He couldn’t remember. And he didn’t care either way. “Doesn’t matter. You’re all just waiting until I die.”</p>
<p>“But you won’t die,” said Morgana, confused. “That’s the whole point.”</p>
<p>“No,” snarled Akira, “<em>he</em> won’t die. <em>I’m</em> doomed regardless. One day I’m going to cease to exist, and then it’ll all go back to normal. I was never real in the first place, just...a memory. A memory he’ll probably hate too when he comes back. So just leave me. I know I was meant to die.”</p>
<p>But Morgana did not leave. Instead his little face crumpled, and his ears went back flat against his head. “So that’s why… You think you’re going to die…”</p>
<p>“We’re not the same,” said Akira. </p>
<p>They thought the same way, but his older self was much further along in his journey of life than Akira was. Than Akira would ever be. He talked differently, interacted with the world differently…loved differently. He’d adapted to where he was in time and space, carved out a place for himself here in Tokyo—found friends who he cared about, and who seemed to care about him. </p>
<p>And Akira…Akira didn’t know how to do that. </p>
<p>He didn’t have time to do that. And he was just an aberration anyway—a hole in the universe—a gap where his older, better self ought to be. All he could do until he came back was try to force the universe to acknowledge him as a force for good. Try to prove he was worth something—even if all he could do was save his older, better self’s life. Otherwise he might as well disappear right now. </p>
<p>“I know you all care about him,” he said, hesitantly. “The older me is lucky to have you. But I’m not him—and now I never will be. I’m just trying to save him, alright? Isn’t that what you want too?”</p>
<p>“The older you…” muttered Morgana. He crept forward, settling by Akira’s elbow, looking up at him cautiously as he huddled close. “You know that if you die he’ll probably die too, right? That’s his body you’ve got there, after all.”</p>
<p>Akira swallowed. He did, but he didn’t want to think about it. It was difficult enough not being real without having to worry about such things. Besides…who was to say that if he died his older self wouldn’t come back? But that was a strong risk to take, even for him. </p>
<p>“I know,” he said. </p>
<p>“Then don’t you understand why we want you to take care of yourself? If you get hurt, we might lose both of you.”</p>
<p>It made sense. And of course they’d care more about the potential of his older self getting hurt than him. Still. Morgana raised a decent point. </p>
<p>He sighed. “I understand. That doesn’t mean I appreciate it.”</p>
<p>Morgana gave a little chuckle. “You don’t need to appreciate it, just…I guess <em>we’d</em> appreciate it if you didn’t bite our heads off every time we try to make sure you’re alright.”</p>
<p>“I bet you would,” said Akira, stubbornly, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle. His focus was on causing as little trouble as possible, after all, and it was obvious that these…incredibly interfering people expected to be able to check up on him without it escalating into a screaming match, which was probably within their rights. God, he hated it though. He really, really hated it. </p>
<p>“I’ll go and see if Futaba’s settled down,” said Morgana. “I promise you don’t have to speak to either of us until the others get here if that’s what you want.”</p>
<p>Akira considered for a moment. “You’re fine,” he said. “I just… The others don’t…”</p>
<p>“It’s okay,” said Morgana. “I’ll stay by your side if you want.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” said Akira. And for the first time in a long time, he meant it. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Child Akira: God is trying to kill me, everyone hates me and life sucks.<br/>Arsène: But consider: maybe it doesn’t.<br/>Child Akira: Fuck off.<br/>Morgana *an adorable cat*: Hey Akira, have you considered that maybe life doesn’t suck?<br/>Child Akira: …Maybe life...doesn’t suck…<br/>Arsène: Seriously kiddo?</p>
<p>Welp, this chapter is basically just kid Akira having the full-on nervous breakdown he's been threatening to have since the moment he got transported to this universe. What's it called when you have an inferiority complex so bad even your older self ranks higher than you? Nothing good, I imagine. Oh, and Yaldy's definitely officially decided to do <em>something</em>, so that's not a good sign either. It's all kicking off today!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Initial Infiltration</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The problem, thought Futaba, as she lay on her bed and flicked through another book on cognitive pscience, was that none of them had realised just how <em>fucked up</em> Akira actually was until now. Probably because, if the fuming ten-year-old downstairs was any indication, he'd taken great pains to hide it. He’d had to, if this was anything like how he’d have reacted if any of them had found out. </p>
<p>Sure, there had been signs that not all was well: him deciding to push through with this close-to-suicide mission with such quiet, intense dedication had definitely freaked Futaba out when he’d first proposed his plan. But the fact of it was, none of them had been prepared to deal with a child so utterly screwed up as the one downstairs. </p>
<p>Morgana had explained it all to her when he’d come slinking miserably out of the kitchen, ears folded back and looking on the verge of tears. How Akira was convinced they all secretly despised him—how he thought of him returning to his normal self as his own death, slowly creeping nearer. How he was convinced the world was better off without him. </p>
<p>Nevermind the obviously neglectful parents, he was having an identity crisis and facing up to imminent death on top of all of that. And frankly, if that was what Futaba was dealing with, she’d probably have ended up screaming at someone too. So she’d forgiven Akira—sort of—and was letting Morgana deal with trying to keep him from self-destructing while they waited for everyone to finish school. Ugh. Honestly, in the hierarchy of ‘things that are important right now’ school had to be smack bang at the bottom of the list. But Makoto was acting-head of the Thieves now and she’d never let them skip, so they just had to wait it out. Slowly. </p>
<p>But what to do about a kid like that? Even if they vanquished Shido and made him confess on live TV, if he didn’t turn back soon he might end up gone altogether. She was beginning to wonder if she shouldn’t offer Akira’s parents as their next target in Mementos, because even if they <em>weren’t</em> on the verge of getting Palaces, they deserved to get their metaphysical asses kicked for screwing up their son so spectacularly. </p>
<p>Who the hell left their ten-year-old child alone to the point where he thought people checking on his wellbeing were only doing it as some sort of sick joke? Even Haru’s dad, who was scum, no question, had apparently cared about her at some point. </p>
<p>But more than that, even if Akira did turn back, and everything turned out to be fine, they all needed to have a serious talk with him. Why hadn’t he ever told them about any of this? Why was he so willing to throw his life away? With the state of his home life, was he even going to be okay if he went back to his hometown at the end of the year? For that matter, were his parents still neglectful assholes or had they changed in the intervening years? Akira never spoke about them...which was probably damning in itself. Why had he hidden so much from them? </p>
<p>Questions upon questions circled around her head, unceasing.</p>
<p>Then the door creaked open. </p>
<p>It was Akira.</p>
<p>As ever, he was dauntless, meeting her eyes even as he stepped inside, his footsteps noiseless as he moved across the floor. </p>
<p>“Hey,” she said, watching as he stopped by the end of her bed, frowning slightly. </p>
<p>What could have warranted this? </p>
<p>“Hey,” he said, his voice cracked and exhausted.</p>
<p>Her heart ached. Could he really still do Shido’s Palace today? He seemed so tired already...</p>
<p>“What’s up?” she asked, inflecting a note of cheerfulness into her voice, hoping that would help him too. </p>
<p>“I’ve um...”</p>
<p>He seemed to be struggling to say it, breaking eye-contact and looking at the floor.</p>
<p>“I want to say sorry, for earlier.” </p>
<p>Akira, saying sorry? Well—she would have expected it from the older him, but this one... </p>
<p>“It was pretty horrible of me to say all those things about you, so I just...” He exhaled sharply. “I don’t have an excuse or anything. I can’t even say I didn’t mean it. So...yeah. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>He glanced up at her, clearly anxious about how she might be taking it. </p>
<p>“You don’t have to accept if you don’t want to,” he said, before she could get any words out. “I know it’s my fault. It’s okay if you can’t forgive me.” </p>
<p>He said the words steadily, in a way that made it was perfectly obvious that he was fully prepared for her to refuse, to slink out of the room in disgrace for the rest of his time here. As though she would never forgive him just for losing his temper with her. </p>
<p>“It’s okay,” she said. “I know you’re going through a lot right now and everything.”</p>
<p>Akira looked like he wanted to say something about that, but quickly bit his tongue and nodded silently. He stood there, frozen for a moment, his hands clenched by his side. It seemed like he didn’t know what to do. He blinked a few times, before finally meeting her gaze again and asking, “Are you sure?”</p>
<p>He seemed so sure of rejection—didn’t seem to know what to do now she wasn’t pushing him away. </p>
<p>“Do you <em>not</em> want me to forgive you?” asked Futaba. </p>
<p>Akira’s eyes widened, and he almost spoke again, but quickly swallowed his words, looking determinedly at the floor. </p>
<p>“Doesn’t matter what I want. If...if you’re fine then that’s...fine. I guess.” </p>
<p>“Well I am fine,” said Futaba. “And I accept your apology.”</p>
<p>“Right,” mumbled Akira. </p>
<p>He turned to go and shuffle out of the room again, and for a moment Futaba wanted to stop him, to grab him and make him play games with her until he cheered up again—but she had a feeling it wouldn’t work like that. So she let him wander out, lost in his own head, probably trying to process what had just happened. </p>
<p><em>Futaba</em> wasn’t sure what had just happened. It was only polite to accept an apology—most of the time. It was true that in some dire circumstances refusing was only natural, but those were very rare. She’d never forgive Akechi for killing her mom, even if he crawled on his knees and begged—but refusing an apology for someone losing their temper? An apology from a ten-year-old? Someone had quite plainly done so, and done so a lot for Akira to be so confused when she accepted. Possibly a lot of someones. What kind of fucked up village did he live in that even people who weren’t his shitty parents—people who should be normal and accept apologies from ten-year-olds, didn’t seem to? </p>
<p>They were definitely talking to Akira when he returned to his normal age. Because something was very, very wrong here.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Time seemed to speed up after the shouting incident. It seemed like mere moments until Yusuke and Haru were stood on the doorstep—they were the ones who’d been chosen to accompany him to Shido’s Palace. Everyone else had decided to go with Akechi so he wouldn’t get too suspicious that half the team had vanished. </p>
<p>Futaba sighed as she joined them at the door.</p>
<p>“I don’t <em>wanna</em> deal with that asshole all day,” she moaned. She was part of Akechi’s team—they needed someone who was capable of being their Nav Support, after all. “Do I really have to go?”</p>
<p>“I afraid there’s no alternative,” said Yusuke, sounding thoroughly unsympathetic. </p>
<p>Akira was getting the sense there might be something of a rivalry between the two. </p>
<p>“Ugh, typical Inari,” muttered Futaba under her breath. </p>
<p>“Will you be okay getting to the courthouse yourself?” asked Haru.</p>
<p>Futaba waved off her concern. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine now. It’s just a pain in the ass, that’s all.”</p>
<p>“Good luck,” said Akira, as Futaba got ready to go. </p>
<p>“Aww,” she cooed, making him immediately regret it. “I’ll be okay, don’t you worry!”</p>
<p>“Well then, I won’t,” he said irritably, but he couldn’t quite pull off the glare he wanted to. </p>
<p>Futaba flashed him a grin, then set off skipping down the street.</p>
<p>“I hope she’ll be okay,” murmured Morgana. </p>
<p>“She’ll be fine,” said Haru. “Futaba-chan can take care of herself now. Besides, if she runs into any trouble she has all of our phone numbers.”</p>
<p>Morgana nodded, but he still looked pessimistic. Between Akira’s meltdown earlier today and having to do this infiltration this afternoon, Akira thought he was probably putting his poor friend though a lot. </p>
<p>Friend... It was still quite strange to think. </p>
<p>But then, if he <em>had</em> to have one, he thought that having it be a Metaverse-cat-creature was probably most fitting.</p>
<p>“So, the Palace is at the Diet Building, right Akira?” asked Haru.</p>
<p>“Sure is,” he said.</p>
<p>“Then let’s get going!” </p>
<hr/>
<p>“I...did not expect it to be like this.” </p>
<p>Yusuke was frowning as he stared out at the ocean of blood. Haru and Morgana were stood next to him, looking equally disconcerted. Akira wasn’t sure what to say—he’d had a similar reaction upon coming for the first time. In a way it was reassuring that he’d been right about just how corrupt this man’s heart was.</p>
<p><em>You should trust your instincts more, Akira,</em> murmured Arsène in his ear. <em>You know this place better than any of them, at present. Apart from dear Morgana, of course.</em></p>
<p><em>You mean the Metaverse?</em> thought Akira, but Arsène did not reply. </p>
<p>“Just how big is this place?” asked Morgana, turning around.</p>
<p>“Big,” said Akira. “But the Treasure isn’t too far away.”</p>
<p>“Ah yes, you’ve explored this place before,” said Yusuke, finally tearing his gaze away from the ocean. “Was it enlightening?”</p>
<p>“I can show you where the door to the Treasure Room is. From there we can try to work out how to get through,” said Akira.</p>
<p>“Sounds like a plan to me!” said Haru, beaming. “Shall we get started?”</p>
<p>Akira gave a curt nod, then began to head towards the huge doors that led into the ship proper. </p>
<p>He was just about to push the doors open when Yusuke stopped him.</p>
<p>“Just a moment, Akira,” he said. </p>
<p>“What is it?” asked Akira, glancing back at him.</p>
<p>“I notice you do not have a costume like the rest of us—is this because Shido does not view you as a threat, or do you simply not have one?”</p>
<p>Oh, right. He’d forgotten about that.</p>
<p>“I have my mask, don’t I?” asked Akira, pointing at his face. “I don’t have a costume. Don’t ask me why, I have no idea. I can still use all my Personas though.”</p>
<p>“Wait, wait, wait!” cried Morgana. “<em>All</em> your Personas? You mean you have access to <em>all</em> of them—even now?” </p>
<p>Akira nodded. Was that...bad somehow? He’d have thought they’d be pleased.</p>
<p>“That <em>is</em> odd,” said Haru, frowning and pinching her chin. “Maybe it has something to do with the de-ageing?”</p>
<p>“But if you’ve only just awakened you shouldn’t have all the Personas you had before,” Morgana insisted. “You should only have the first one—the demon.”</p>
<p>Akira sighed sharply. He hadn’t wanted to bring this up again, but it seemed they just didn’t get it.</p>
<p>“I’m not real, remember? I’m not really ten, I’m just...a memory of myself at ten. Our...soul, I guess, is still the same, so obviously I have all the Personas of the older me.”</p>
<p>Yusuke’s eyebrows pinched together. “That’s...obtuse.”</p>
<p>“Well it’s the truth,” said Akira, shortly. “And we don’t have time to debate over it. No, I don’t have a costume, yes, I have all my Personas—happy? Now let’s get to the Treasure.”</p>
<p>And with that he shoved the door open and went inside, not looking behind him to check the others were following. They quickly caught up, in any case. </p>
<p>“What an odd place,” said Yusuke, looking around at all the people in their masks. “Presumably these are all politicians.”</p>
<p>“Not necessarily,” said Morgana. “They’re more likely to be all Shido’s allies—this is the group of people he’s ‘saving’ from that death trap out there, after all.” </p>
<p>“How horrible,” murmured Haru. “I wonder if...” </p>
<p>She didn’t finish her sentence, instead trailing off and staring miserably at the ground.</p>
<p>“What is it?” asked Akira, hoping he didn’t sound too rude.</p>
<p>“Oh, nothing!” said Haru, looking up at him in surprise. “It’s just...well. I’m afraid I might see some familiar faces here, that’s all.”</p>
<p>“Members of your father’s company?” asked Yusuke.</p>
<p>“Possibly,” sighed Haru. “It would be dreadful to see them here, but...I suppose I need to know. At least that way I know who I need to deal with in the company.”</p>
<p>“Knowledge can be painful sometimes,” said Morgana, quietly. </p>
<p>“I know,” said Haru, “but I have to—for the good of everyone.” </p>
<p>This was all a bit over Akira’s head, so he decided to move them on. </p>
<p>“The Treasure’s right near the top,” he said, pointing up the stairs. “Follow me closely, and try not to attract the attention of Shadows.”</p>
<p>The others all nodded, and off they went. </p>
<p>Akira noticed very quickly that here in the Palace, they seemed to have no issue doing what he said, following his every move and direction without question. Was this what it was like for his older self? They must respect him a lot not to even be asking him questions... </p>
<p>As they scaled the ship’s floors, Akira found himself wondering what would happen if he ever met his older self. Not that he ever would—their circumstances contradicted it, but still—he wondered if he’d like himself. He wanted the older Akira to like him. He wanted the older Akira to know that somehow, despite all his numerous flaws, his friends still trusted him, even as a bratty little ten-year-old. He wanted to talk to him, to know how he’d deal with this strange place, and these evil people—how he’d feel about this corrupt politician and the effect he’d had on his friends' lives.</p>
<p>Akira...the person that was both him and not, trapped away in some other space and time, there but always just out of reach... </p>
<p>He clutched the diary closer to his chest. He was wearing in his bag, glued to his hip at all times. It felt right there. As much a part of him as his own arm. </p>
<p>It wasn’t too long before the huge golden doors rose before them, as ugly and menacing as when Akira had first seen them.</p>
<p>“We’re here.”</p>
<p>“This is it?” asked Morgana, hopping forward. “Hmm, I see what you mean—these things are pretty solid. We’d need to get all the keycards to have any hope of getting through.”</p>
<p>“But where would they be hidden?” asked Yusuke.</p>
<p>“Well, that’s the question,” sighed Morgana.</p>
<p>“What form do you think they’d take Mona-chan?” asked Haru. “You said before they probably won’t be traditional keycards.”</p>
<p>“No, probably not,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, what’s this place even supposed to be?”</p>
<p>Akira thought that was a bit of an odd question, as it seemed perfectly obvious to him what it was meant to be.</p>
<p>“Well it’s the Representatives’ Chamber, right?” he said, pointing at the writing above the doors. “They’re in there passing all the bills in his favour.”</p>
<p>“Nicely spotted, Joker,” said Yusuke.</p>
<p>“Joker?” asked Akira. That wasn’t his name, after all—but it did seem familiar.</p>
<p>“Oh, right—we forgot to tell you!” said Morgana, his eyes wide. “In here we all use code names to keep the Palace Ruler from recognising us. I’m Mona, he’s Fox, and she’s Noir. And, well, the older you was Joker.”</p>
<p>“That’s...a bit of an odd name,” said Akira. Then again, so were theirs. </p>
<p>“It’s because you’re our trump card!” said Morgana, proudly. “What with all your Personas and everything.”</p>
<p>“I see.”</p>
<p>“Are you okay with that code name still, Ak—I mean, Joker!” asked Haru. “If you don’t want to keep that one we completely understand.”</p>
<p>“It’s a good name though...” said Morgana, a bit sulkily. He’d totally picked it for him, hadn’t he?</p>
<p>“I think a new name might be best,” said Akira. “I’m not sure I...well. It’ll be easier for you to differentiate, I think.”</p>
<p>“Alright,” said Yusuke, “what name would you like? Your not having a costume makes it tricky since we can’t go off visuals.” </p>
<p>What codename would he like, huh? He hadn’t put a lot of thought into it, to be honest. Most of the time he hated it when people adapted his name—he couldn’t stand most honorifics, so asking for a codename was a bit much, in his opinion. </p>
<p><em>What represents your truest self?</em> asked Arsène. <em>The Joker is the trump card—the Trickster, able to change the rules of the game. Are you not similar in that regard? </em></p>
<p>It was true he was probably breaking a lot of rules of time and space by being here, but...what represented his truest self? Well...that had to be his name, didn’t it? Akira. After all, that was who he was, at his core. Whoever, or <em>whateve</em>r Joker was, he didn’t exist right now. Right now there was only him. Only...Akira. </p>
<p>“Just use my name,” he said. “It’ll get too confusing otherwise.”</p>
<p>“Weren’t you listening?” cried Morgana. “We can’t! Strange things get through people’s subconscious sometimes!” </p>
<p>“So what?” said Akira. “I bet there are tons of Akiras in Tokyo—and like I said before, I’m not even supposed to exist. There’s no way he’ll be able to find me.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure you don’t want a codename?” asked Yusuke. </p>
<p>“Very sure,” said Akira. “I’m Akira. That’s all.”</p>
<p>“That’s fine,” said Haru, smiling gently at him. “Whatever you’re most comfortable with.”</p>
<p>He nodded. She seemed to understand, for whatever reason. He was glad someone did. </p>
<p>“Fine, fine,” sighed Morgana, before continuing under his breath, “It’s totally killing the Phantom Thief vibe though.”</p>
<p>“So, like I was saying,” said Akira, “this place is a legal chamber or something. I’m...not really sure what you’d need to get into one of those though.”</p>
<p>“Well, all the bills are being passed unanimously,” said Yusuke, glancing up at the display screen in the corner. “So this must be a room of Shido’s most trusted confidants.”</p>
<p>“Or cronies,” said Morgana.</p>
<p>“Indeed.”</p>
<p>“So to get in, I suppose you’d need to be someone Shido approved of,” said Haru.</p>
<p>“But how would we prove that?” asked Morgana. </p>
<p>Akira had no idea. He was a bit lost in the world of politics—it wasn’t something he thought about much, aside from whenever the latest scandal hit the news and he got to deal with another wave of nausea from how corrupt and stifling the world seemed to be. </p>
<p>“Hmm, I think I might have an idea,” said Haru, after a moment.</p>
<p>“Oh yeah?” asked Morgana, looking up.</p>
<p>“In business, if you want to transfer over to a similar position in another company, you have to get your boss to write you a good letter of recommendation. What if that’s what those slots are for?”</p>
<p>“Noir, you’re a genius!” cried Morgana. “That must be why the slots are so big!”</p>
<p>“So, what, we go around and try and find five people in here who’ll write us a letter of recommendation?” asked Akira. “These Shadows seem pretty intelligent, you know. It might be difficult to persuade them.” </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” said Morgana. “Shadows might look and act like people, but they really aren’t that smart when you get down to it. We’ll be able to do it for sure—assuming we actually manage to find these people.”</p>
<p>“We might be best to start by going around and enquiring who Shido considers to be closest to him out here,” said Yusuke. “Presumably the people in here would know who to go to to get these letters we need.”</p>
<p>“Good point,” said Morgana. “What do you think, Akira?” </p>
<p>“Sounds good to me,” he said, shrugging. “If we’re going to interrogate people it might be best to split up for a bit to cover more ground. I don’t think there are a lot of aggressive Shadows on this level.”</p>
<p>“Will it be safe?” asked Yusuke, his brow furrowed.</p>
<p>“I think we can trust that we’ll all be alright,” said Haru, cheerfully. She seemed to be taking his side on things—something he was very grateful for. “We won’t split up for long—we should all meet back here by the doors in half an hour, alright?”</p>
<p>They all nodded. The mission had begun. </p>
<hr/>
<p>“So we have a TV Station President, a former noble, a politician and an IT Director, right?” said Akira, counting them off on his fingers.</p>
<p>“Hmm, that’s only four,” muttered Morgana.</p>
<p>“There is something odd I heard that I’d like you to hear,” said Yusuke, leaning against the wall of the Safe Room. They’d quickly retreated there once Akira pointed out it probably wouldn’t be smart to talk about their plans to break into the Representatives’ Chamber right in front of said Chamber. </p>
<p>“What is it?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>“During the course of my eavesdropping, I heard several people mention a mysterious figure known only as the Cleaner.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I heard something like that too!” said Haru.</p>
<p>“So did I,” said Morgana.</p>
<p>Akira nodded. “Someone who goes about cleaning up Shido’s messes, huh? I dunno about you guys, but that role sounds familiar to me.”</p>
<p>“Could it really be him?” asked Yusuke, frowning. “Wouldn’t it be strange for him to be in this place when he has a Persona?”</p>
<p>“Not necessarily,” said Morgana. “Cognitive selves exist separately to Shadow selves, after all. They have nothing to do with whether or not someone has a Persona.”</p>
<p>“The trouble is that Akechi must know Shido has a Palace,” said Akira, resting his face in his hands. “It’s possible his ‘cognitive self’ actually is his real self, since he can enter in person, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>“Hmm, I follow your train of thought, but Shido would have to know he has a Palace too for that to work—especially if Akechi actually does have a letter of recommendation.”</p>
<p>Akira sighed and shook his head. “I’m not sure it all adds up. On the one hand, I can’t think of anyone else Shido would use as a ‘Cleaner’. On the other, I’m absolutely positive that Shido doesn’t trust Akechi as far as he can throw him—someone this paranoid would never entrust a teenager with so much power.”</p>
<p>“I agree,” said Haru. “I think it’s far more likely that Akechi-kun’s being blackmailed into this than doing it all by himself. The people who hold these letters all seem to be adults Shido-san relies on, not teenagers he’s keeping under his control.”</p>
<p>“So it’s probably not Akechi,” said Akira. “But it’s definitely someone.”</p>
<p>“We may have to look around a bit more before finding him,” said Yusuke. </p>
<p>“But we can do that while going after these other targets,” said Morgana. “What do you think, Akira?”</p>
<p>Akira kicked his legs up onto his seat. “We should focus on clearing the four targets we know. If we find out about the Cleaner on our way, that’s great—if we don’t we investigate more tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“An excellent plan,” said Yusuke, smiling. “So, who do you think we should go for first?”</p>
<p>“Well, I know where the politician probably is...”</p>
<p>“Then by all means, lead the way.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>After about three hours in Shido’s Palace, Akira had to admit to himself there probably wasn’t any way he could have managed this alone. The creatures here were too strong, and the persuasion they'd had to pull off to get the Shadows to give them the letters would have been beyond Akira’s acting ability and knowledge. The others simply…knew more about the world than him. And there was no question it was quicker with three other people there to back him up when he needed it. </p>
<p><em>Help is useful,</em> said Titania, his current Persona. <em>That’s the whole point of it, dear.</em></p>
<p>But how long would it last? That’s what it all came down to eventually: how long would these ‘friends’ of his stick around? No one ever had before—not for anything. </p>
<p><em>You can trust them to assist you for the remainder of this Palace,</em> said Titania, with certainty. <em>Don’t let yourself be caught up in such worries. It won’t help you.</em></p>
<p>That much, at least, was perfectly accurate. For now they had four letters of recommendation—only one more and the route to the Treasure would be cleared.</p>
<p>“We’ve managed a lot today,” sighed Morgana, as they staggered into the Safe Room.</p>
<p>“Indeed,” said Yusuke, lifting his mask from his face and exposing his sweat-beaded forehead. “We’ve made considerable progress.”</p>
<p>“Only one more letter, isn’t that right?” asked Haru, collapsing into a chair in a rather less ladylike fashion than usual.</p>
<p>“Yeah, but it’s that damned Cleaner,” groaned Morgana.</p>
<p>They’d discovered who the Cleaner was, and mercifully, it had turned out not to be Akechi. Instead the man appeared to be some sort of Yakuza-type, which really shouldn’t have been all that surprising. Still…</p>
<p>“Why does Shido even need Yakuza?” Akira wondered aloud, leaning on the table. “He already has Akechi to get rid of people, doesn’t he?”</p>
<p>“Akechi can only cause mental shutdowns and psychotic breaks,” said Morgana. “It’s always going to be a fifty-fifty chance whether or not he can actually kill someone with either of those. The only reason Futaba’s mom died is because she was in a shutdown state and wandered into traffic without realising—same for your Principal, and it’s pretty hard to tell where someone is from down in Mementos, y’know.”</p>
<p>He made a good point. “So you think Shido uses Akechi for people he just wants out of the way—not necessarily dead?” </p>
<p>“That’s most likely,” said Morgana, frowning. </p>
<p>“It would also be difficult to explain if a major figure like my father suddenly got assassinated by Yakuza,” said Haru, quietly. “It would be extremely difficult to cover up something like that. Having him undergo a mental shutdown would have been much more convenient.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry about your dad,” said Akira, softly. He’d said as much in the Velvet Prison, but he didn’t think she remembered. “From what I understand, he wasn’t the nicest person, but he didn’t deserve to die like that.”</p>
<p>Haru nodded mutely.</p>
<p>“Is there anything else we need to do in here today?” asked Yusuke.</p>
<p>Akira shook his head. He was bone-tired from all the fighting they’d done—even the coffee the others kept pressing into his hand after battles didn’t seem to help much. It just made his hands shake and his vision go fuzzy. Besides, they’d achieved a lot.</p>
<p>“We know where the Cleaner is, anyway,” he said. “We can come back and take him out tomorrow pretty easily. Then we can prepare for whatever’s inside that Chamber.”</p>
<p>“Sounds like a plan to me!” said Morgana, bouncing upright. “Time to go home!”</p>
<p>“I’m going to have a long cup of tea when I get home,” sighed Haru.</p>
<p>“A delightful idea,” said Yusuke. “Now, where’s the cheapest place on the road…”</p>
<p>“If you want a drink, why don’t you just get it from the cafe?” asked Akira. </p>
<p>Yusuke stared at him in surprise. “You mean the Leblanc?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Sojiro knows you don’t he?”</p>
<p>“Well, yes, but—” Yusuke was beginning to look a bit flustered. “Would he still serve me for free without you there?”</p>
<p>“He will if me and Futaba tell him to.” That was a complete guess, but he was fairly sure that even if his word didn’t mean anything, Futaba could probably persuade Sojiro if she wanted to. </p>
<p>“Ah,” said Yusuke, his expression darkening. “Futaba would not tell him to.” </p>
<p>Oh, right. They had their weird rivalry thing going on, didn’t they?</p>
<p>“Don’t you have much money?” he asked, since not being able to afford a cup of tea or coffee seemed like a bit of a stretch, even if Yusuke <em>was</em> one of those perpetually broke artists.</p>
<p>“Akira!” hissed Morgana. </p>
<p>But Yusuke didn’t seem to be too bothered.</p>
<p>“I’m afraid not, since Madarame left, I…” his brow furrowed. “It’s been more difficult to manage my funds since then.”</p>
<p>“You know, you can always ask us for help if you don’t have enough, Kitagawa-kun,” said Haru.</p>
<p>“Have some of mine,” said Akira, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a fistful of yen he’d gathered from the monsters on the Ship. “It’s not like I’m going to need it.”</p>
<p>Handing Yusuke his hard-earned money <em>did</em> hurt though—the fact of it was he really <em>didn’t</em> have that much himself, and he was going to be eternally on-edge until he knew he wasn’t going to be chucked out onto the street at any moment. Or until he disappeared. Whichever came first. </p>
<p>Yusuke stared at him with a strange mix of horror and gratitude. </p>
<p>“I thank you, Akira, but…is it really alright?”</p>
<p>Akira was sorely tempted to rescind his offer, but he resisted. “I’m probably going to disappear soon—take the money. I’m sure my older self already has plenty.”</p>
<p>He <em>had</em> to if he’d been fighting creatures like this for months already. </p>
<p>“Then I’m honoured to take it,” said Yusuke, smiling widely at him and carefully taking the money Akira was offering him. </p>
<p>“Okay, okay, that’s enough of that for now,” said Morgana, “let’s get going. I wanna go home too y’know!”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Futaba was already there waiting for them when they got back. </p>
<p>“Finally!” she cried, flinging up her arms when they walked into the living room. “What took you guys so long? I thought Sojiro was gonna think you’d gone missing again! <em>I</em> almost thought you’d gone missing again!”</p>
<p>“We had…a really busy day,” said Morgana, with a yawn. “But how did your infiltration go? Was Akechi suspicious?”</p>
<p>“Not at all,” snorted Futaba. “He was super pissed about taking orders from Makoto though—practically every time she told him what to do you could see his blood boiling.”</p>
<p>“Not so great at being in disguise now, huh?” said Morgana, smugly hopping onto the table opposite her while Akira took a seat on the sofa next to her.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I didn’t even know guys could get that passive-aggressive—still, we made it through to the Treasure okay. Though not without him asking us at the end if Akira was ‘really okay.’” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “Kinda chilling watching him lie so shamelessly like that.”  </p>
<p>“He’s an odd one, that’s for sure.”</p>
<p>“So,” said Futaba, turning to Akira. “How’d your infiltration go? Work out anything important?”</p>
<p>“We managed to get four of the five letters we needed to get in,” said Akira. </p>
<p>“What!” cried Futaba, her eyes bulging. “But then—you’re almost there!”</p>
<p>“Yep.”</p>
<p>“He’s been working us to the bone,” moaned Morgana. </p>
<p>Futaba snickered. “Ah, good old Akira. Mind you, the older you would probably have tried to force us through in one day if he’d had it his way, so maybe you should count yourself lucky, Mona!”</p>
<p>“Ugh,” groaned Morgana. “Don’t remind me.”</p>
<p>That was…surprising to hear. “Was the older me really that harsh?”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure ‘harsh’ is the right word for it,” said Morgana, shifting uncomfortably. “He always moves us out if anyone collapses, but…well. Once he’s in a Palace he gets <em>really</em> focused on getting through it.”</p>
<p>“I think that’s why us having to go through Sae’s so slow was stressing him out so much,” said Futaba, quietly. “We wanted Akechi to think we were weaker than we were, you see, so we had to slow it right down.”</p>
<p>“Plus the plan,” muttered Morgana. </p>
<p>“Yeah, that…probably didn’t help.”</p>
<p>So, in a way he might have helped his older self by giving him a Metaphysical break… Wherever he was right now. That was strange to think.</p>
<p>“Shido’s Palace is awful,” said Morgana, continuing on while Akira stayed silent. “The ship is disgusting and there are these horrible statues that turn everyone into rats!”</p>
<p>“Oh, so you got downgraded down the food-chain, huh Mona?” said Futaba, reaching over and pulling his ears playfully. </p>
<p>“Augh! Stop that!” </p>
<p>The two of them quickly descended into play-fighting and Akira stayed put and rolled his eyes. Everything would be done with tomorrow, if they could get to Shido’s Treasure. But a strange, shivering chill crept down his spine. He was missing something, he was sure of it. </p>
<p>He closed his eyes. </p>
<p>A man stood in the centre of a blue-lit room, two small girls framing him either side all of them with wide, eerie smiles on their faces. The man reached out a hand…</p>
<p>“Akira?”</p>
<p>He forced his eyes open, shaking himself. What <em>was</em> that?</p>
<p>“Hey, you okay?” Futaba asked, placing her hands carefully on his shoulders. “You look like you passed out for a second there.”</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” said Akira, quickly removing her hands. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”</p>
<p>“You sure?” she asked, clearly unconvinced.</p>
<p>“I’ll go to bed early tonight.”</p>
<p>“I’ll hold you to that!” called out Morgana from the floor.</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine,” said Akira.</p>
<p>But he didn’t know why he said it. Because for once in his life, he was quite sure that he wasn’t. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Child Akira: Maybe having friends…isn’t so bad?<br/>Child Akira: Maybe they can tolerate me too?<br/>Yalby, immediately: Hello naughty child it’s time for the Velvet <s>Prison</s> Room.<br/>Child Akira: Actually, you know what? Nevermind.</p>
<p>On the one hand, Akira's now being a little more honest about how he feels towards the others thanks to his breakdown earlier. On the other...there's still All That going on with his not-quite-living status and now Yalby's on the prowl too. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, it was fun to get more of the Thieves involved again!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Recognition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Welcome to my Velvet Room.”</p>
<p>Akira could see clearly now. And from what he could see, he could only conclude that he was completely and utterly screwed. </p>
<p>The bars to his cell had returned, properly now—and the prison clothes that were once far too big were now just the right size. </p>
<p>Akira glared at the interloper, staring at him from outside. “Who are you?”</p>
<p>“I,” the creature rumbled, his voice as deep and dark as the depths of the ocean, “am Igor.”</p>
<p>He was an unpleasant-looking man; old, decrepit, with an almost comically long nose, and wide, bloodshot eyes. A permanent smile seemed to be carved into his wrinkled old face, and he sat at his desk in a relaxed posture—almost as if nothing was wrong. But something <em>was</em> wrong. Akira could feel it in the very air. </p>
<p>“Is this really still him?”</p>
<p>Akira leapt back in surprise as two girls who looked around about his own age appeared at either side of the door now locking him in. They were strange-looking too, with white hair, despite being so young, and piercing yellow eyes. They didn’t seem quite as menacing as the old man though.</p>
<p>“Of course it is, Caroline,” said the other girl—her voice was far calmer than that of her...sibling? Twin? If they were even human at all... “He has just been...altered somewhat.”</p>
<p>“Hey, Inmate!” yelled Caroline, smacking her baton against the bars of his cage, sending a jolt of electricity through them. “What happened to you? Why are you so short now?” </p>
<p>So—his older self knew about this place too—had spoken to even these strange creatures... </p>
<p>Igor...he remembered that name...</p>
<p>“It is certainly troublesome that this has happened,” said Igor, folding his hands together and staring at Akira over his long nose. He didn’t seem to need to blink. “Tell me, child, what is it you intend to do after you destroy this monster of pride?” </p>
<p>Pride? Was he referring to Shido? And how did he know about all that anyway? Could he see everything Akira did? What was the nature of this strange place—and why was he trapped now when he hadn’t been before? </p>
<p>Questions only spawned more questions, but he decided to start with a simple one.</p>
<p>“What are you?” </p>
<p>Igor gave a deep, menacing laugh that seemed to reverberate through Akira’s bones and make every hair on his body stand on end. </p>
<p>“What an interesting question,” he said, leaning forward over his desk. “You’re a curious one, aren’t you, boy?” </p>
<p>“I have a name,” said Akira, without even thinking about it. Why had he said that? This <em>thing</em> didn’t need to—</p>
<p>“So you do,” said Igor, narrowing his eyes slightly. “But you would do well to remember that names hold great power, <em>Akira.</em>” </p>
<p>For an instant he thought that his heart might have stopped. All the air seemed to have been knocked from his lungs at once, and the sound of Igor saying his name reverberated through his ears like a curse upon his very soul. Whatever he was, a god, a demon, or something else entirely—he was dangerous. Incredibly dangerous. </p>
<p>“You’d better respect our Master, Inmate,” said Caroline, from the doorway. “He’ll make you suffer if you don’t, you know?” </p>
<p>Akira should be contrite. It was obvious that Igor had incredible power, and he certainly wasn’t imprisoning him here for fun. Standing up to him would be dangerous, possibly even deadly. And yet...</p>
<p>“Why am I locked up here?” asked Akira, jumping up from the bed and glowering at Igor. “It wasn’t like this before. What have you done?”</p>
<p>Igor’s smile seemed to deepen. “<em>I</em> have not done anything. Your jailer is no less than you yourself—this is a room based on your own perception, after all. You must believe you deserve to be locked away.”</p>
<p>Suddenly, the words from the diary came back to him in a flood. </p>
<p>
  <em>Igor continues to grow increasingly unnerving. Whatever it is he’s refusing to tell me about my so-called ‘rehabilitation’ I have a feeling it has further reach than just my own personal actualisation. After all, he’s the one who’s been pushing for us to gain popularity—and indeed, the one who gave us the app in the first place.</em>
</p>
<p>Rehabilitation—his older self hadn’t thought he needed it either. This creature wanted something. But what? </p>
<p>“Why have you brought me here?” he asked. “Why did you choose me?” </p>
<p>“Stop asking so many questions!” cried Caroline, but her sister quickly interjected. </p>
<p>“It is within his rights to ask,” she said, “though he might not get the answers he seeks.”</p>
<p>“Well put, Justine,” said Igor, never once taking his eyes off Akira. “As for why you are here—it is all but impossible to say. But no doubt completing your rehabilitation will yield <em>some</em> answers for you.” </p>
<p>“And this ‘rehabilitation’ is basically doing whatever you want me to,” said Akira, with very sarcastic air quotes.</p>
<p>“Hey! Show a bit more respect!” yelled Caroline.</p>
<p>“It is alright,” said Igor, raising a bemused hand. “In a way he is correct. After all, I am the only one who can guide you towards your rehabilitation, and help you prevent the coming ruin.”</p>
<p>“Ruin?” asked Akira, wrinkling his nose. “If you mean Akechi, I’m dealing with him.”</p>
<p>“You certainly are,” said Igor, but the way he said it made Akira think that he was a bit annoyed by it. Good. He wanted this horrible creature to suffer in whatever way possible. It was as much as he deserved for locking Akira away like this. “But his plans for you are not the ruin to which I refer.”</p>
<p>“What <em>are</em> you talking about?”</p>
<p>Igor chuckled. “I am afraid that you will have to wait for all to be revealed to you. Trust that, in time, you will understand the nature of your unique situation.” </p>
<p>Akira narrowed his eyes. That much, at least, he was pretty sure he understood perfectly. And he strongly suspected that the nature of his ‘unique situation’ was that unless he worked out how to get around it, Igor was going to kill him. His older self had been right—Igor was the worst threat to both of them, and he was going to execute his plan very soon. But when? And what exactly was he going to do?</p>
<p>“Why weren’t you here before?” asked Akira. “When I first came to this place it was empty. Taking time off from your ‘rehabilitation’, warden?” </p>
<p>Igor gave another deep laugh, but this time Akira refused to flinch, even though he could hear it scraping away at the back of his skull. He <em>had</em> to do this. For all their sakes. </p>
<p>“Not at all,” said Igor, his odd smile stretching even wider. “Your...unusual situation merely displaced me for a small time. Rest assured, I will be present from here on out.” </p>
<p>Akira stepped back from the bars, retreating into the shadows slightly. They were steadfast and solid, and the chain around his ankle was now tight—not nearly so easy to slip out of as it had been only a few days ago. Igor had him trapped, and they both knew it. </p>
<p>And even though he longed to reach through the bars of this strange prison and strangle him, he knew he’d be dead before his fingers came anywhere near Igor’s throat. So he had to play along. For now.</p>
<p>“Well then,” he said, raising his head to stare at Igor once more. “Are you going to tell me what this rehabilitation of yours is all about or not?” </p>
<p>“Ugh, so rude!” hissed Caroline, but she didn’t hit the cage again.</p>
<p>“Very well,” said Igor. “Allow me to pose again the question I asked you when you first arrived here: what is it you intend to do after you destroy this monster of pride? Answer truthfully now.” </p>
<p>A dark menace seemed to lurk behind Igor’s eyes as he watched Akira from behind the bars—like a lion watching a mouse. </p>
<p>But Akira was not a mouse. </p>
<p>And he had a feeling Igor knew that. </p>
<p>“After this?” he said. “Well hopefully that’ll be a question for the older me, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>“Hopefully,” Igor agreed, watching him, unmoving. “But say you do not turn back: what will happen then?” </p>
<p>“Guess I won’t <em>have</em> anything else to do. It’ll probably be pretty boring.”</p>
<p>But that wasn’t true at all. After all, even if he dealt with Shido and somehow miraculously came out of it alive, Igor would still be here, waiting somewhere in the depths... And his friends...they didn’t know. </p>
<p>“I see,” said Igor, leaning back in his seat. “How interesting. Will you succumb to despair, I wonder? Or find some new meaning in life?” </p>
<p>“I’ll have to.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Igor, and for once, Akira thought his smile dropped—just for half a second—and he thought he saw a ghostly image of Igor’s true face behind that conniving smile. </p>
<p>It was blank. Blank as untouched paper.</p>
<p>
  <em>Apathy...</em>
</p>
<p>“Well,” said Igor, “I think that brings our meeting to a close, don’t you agree?”</p>
<p>But Akira didn’t have time to voice his opinion, for the next moment he was drifting through a different plane, odd chains dancing around him, blue light shining from somewhere above. </p>
<p>Then he was awake. </p>
<p>Back in Sojiro’s living room again. </p>
<p>The blanket seemed to press down on him like a leaden weight. He clumsily pushed it off himself, stumbling to his feet in an effort to clear his head. Morgana was asleep on the sofa, too deeply unconscious to notice that Akira had moved. His skull ached. </p>
<p>As he massaged his temple, he noticed it was still dark outside, and a quick glance up at the darkened clock told him it was two o’clock in the morning. No one would be up for hours...but he’d never felt less tired. </p>
<p>He was aware of a subtle presence near his shoulders, of clawed hands gently reassuring him they were still there. He reached up to where the ghostly presence was, his hands sliding right through transparent claws. </p>
<p>“What do we do now?” he asked hoarsely. </p>
<p><em>I don’t know,</em> said Arsène. <em>He is powerful. Stronger than us by far. </em></p>
<p>“Is there really no hope?” </p>
<p>
  <em>Not ‘no’ hope. But we are in a dire situation indeed. </em>
</p>
<p>Akira sighed and let his hand fall back down to his side. He crept over to where he’d left his bag with the diary in it and lifted it up, holding it close. </p>
<p>What would <em>he</em> have done? Would he have been able to find some way out of this? Face down that horrible creature that haunted his dreams night by night? </p>
<p>But no...he’d been imprisoned too. Akira dug his fingers into the straps, ignoring the pain as he did. There had to be some way out, hadn’t there? He hadn’t come all this way to save his older self, only to be thwarted by some demon that lurked in the depths of humanity’s unconscious. He was better than that. <em>They</em> were better than that. </p>
<p>He <em>would</em> save him. He had to. </p>
<p>Visions of Shido’s death-filled cruise-ship floated behind his eyelids. They only needed one more letter—one more letter and Akira could free his older self from one grizzly fate, at least. And besides...he couldn’t stay here. </p>
<p><em>I will be by your side,</em> Arsène whispered. </p>
<p>“Thanks,” said Akira. </p>
<p>He hoped he wouldn’t need him.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Shido’s Palace was just as he remembered it, the moonlight glinting off the bloody ocean far below. It was almost...beautiful. </p>
<p>“The Cleaner resides at the bottom of the ship,” said Arsène, now manifested properly beside him. “You will need to be careful going down. Fighting these creatures yourself will doubtless only lead to ruin.”</p>
<p>“I understand,” said Akira, adjusting his mask on his face. “I can do this.”</p>
<p>“Of that,” said Arsène, softly, “I have no doubt.”</p>
<p>And he faded away, leaving Akira alone on the deck. All up to him now. </p>
<p>He could only hope he managed to get there in time.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The Cleaner lurked in the very bowels of the ship, in the depths of the boiler room. Akira was almost there. He’d descended the ships floors under cover of darkness, dodging around enemies, crawling through pipes, and all in all doing his utmost to remain unseen. No one could know he was there. It was...important, somehow. The final letter was almost in his grasp.</p>
<p>He crept along the beam he was balancing on, observing the Shadows prowling around below in endless circles. A shame they’d been trapped in such a horrible place. </p>
<p><em>Hurry along now,</em> muttered Arsène.<em> We don’t have much time.</em></p>
<p>He was right.</p>
<p>Akira crouched low to the beam and hurried along it at a half-run, careful not to lose his balance or make enough noise to attract the Shadows’ attention. He would need to take the Cleaner off-guard if he wanted any chance at getting that letter—as a member of the Yakuza he posed a significant challenge—and if he saw Akira first he’d have to give it all up. He couldn’t let that happen. </p>
<p>A small door led through to the room the Cleaner was most likely sleeping in. How to get inside without being noticed? The door would make a noise as it slid open, no matter what—it might be useful as a distraction but there was no way Akira could use it to go in. No, there had to be some other way. But what...?</p>
<p>He scanned the room for anything that might give him the advantage.</p>
<p>And then he stopped dead in his tracks. </p>
<p>There was something else in here. </p>
<p>A flash of white at the edge of his vision, disappearing behind a beam. Could he have imagined it?</p>
<p><em>No,</em> hissed Arsène. </p>
<p>It had to be real. And he knew of only one person that insisted on wearing white in the Metaverse.</p>
<p>
  <em>He’s been following us. Perhaps for some time now.</em>
</p>
<p><em>Think he’s going to try and kill us?</em> thought Akira. </p>
<p>
  <em>Unclear. I am tempted to suggest that if that was his intent he’d have acted upon it by now—he’s had ample opportunity. </em>
</p>
<p><em>He may just be making up his mind,</em> Akira pointed out.</p>
<p>
  <em>Very true. And the fact he is following us at all does not bode well. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Should we deal with him now? If he tries something while we’re trying to deal with the Cleaner...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You are right to be worried. Any interference at this stage could easily prove deadly—equally, so could confronting him. </em>
</p>
<p><em>I think that’s a risk I need to take,</em> thought Akira, though he wasn’t looking forward to it. Dealing with the normal Akechi was difficult enough. Dealing with one out to kill him... Well. He couldn’t delay any longer. It was time to confront his murderer.</p>
<p>“Hey,” he called out, turning to where he’s last seen Akechi’s cape. “I know you’re there.”</p>
<p>There was no response. </p>
<p>“Come out. I want to talk to you.”</p>
<p>Provided that was what Akechi was actually here to do. If he really was trying to kill him, they wouldn’t do much talking at all. But Akechi seemed reluctant to reveal himself. There was still no movement from behind the pillar. </p>
<p>“There’s no point hiding,” said Akira, beginning to advance towards where Akechi was hidden. </p>
<p>But he’d only taken a couple of steps when a white figure suddenly lurched up, out from behind the pillar. The red mask concealed most of his expression from so far away, but even from where Akira was standing, he didn’t look pleased. Just as well. He <em>should</em> be ashamed of hiding so miserably. </p>
<p>“Why are you here?” he snarled, not sounding remotely as nice as he usually pretended to. </p>
<p>“I’m getting the letters,” said Akira.</p>
<p>“Letters?” asked Akechi. “You’re trying to change <em>Shido’s</em> heart?” </p>
<p>The prospect seemed to amuse him, because he suddenly cut himself off with a burst of manic laughter. If Akira had had any doubts before they were quickly quashed: there was definitely something wrong with Akechi if he thought this was funny. </p>
<p>“It’s pointless!” he hissed suddenly, his aspect becoming serious again. “He’ll destroy you!”</p>
<p>“Like he’s destroyed you?” asked Akira. </p>
<p>Probably not the smartest thing to say, but Akechi already looked like he was on the verge of some sort of breakdown, and Akira needed more information to find out if that breakdown was going to actually involve his death or not. And, sure enough, the moment the words left Akira’s mouth, Akechi’s expression contorted, and for a moment he was sure Akechi was mere moments from leaping across the beams and strangling him. </p>
<p>“How?” he whispered hoarsely, his body tense, his face distorted into an animalistic snarl. “How did you find out—how could you possibly...?”</p>
<p>“Guess I was lucky,” said Akira. “He is your boss, isn’t he?”</p>
<p>“Boss?” murmured Akechi. He sounded genuinely confused. Had Akira been wrong? </p>
<p>But then another bubble of manic laughter exploded from Akechi’s throat—somehow much worse than the first time. He sounded like he was choking, like his lungs were haemorrhaging, like some emotion that had been buried deep inside for years was now exploding out, consuming him. It was a terrible sound. </p>
<p>“What’s so funny?” asked Akira, not wanting to hear any more of it, regardless of the consequences. </p>
<p>“My...boss...?” Akechi gasped, out of breath from his sudden bout of mania. “I suppose he is. In a...twisted sort of way.”</p>
<p>It was perfectly obvious that whatever bond it was Akechi had with Shido, it ran far deeper than a mere boss-employee relationship. But frankly, Akira wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the details if it had elicited <em>that</em> sort of reaction from Akechi. </p>
<p>“But he’s the one who asked you to kill me, right?”</p>
<p>Akechi’s eyes narrowed and his lips thinned, glowering at Akira from across the beams. </p>
<p>“I should strangle you right now,” he declared. “It would be easy with your pathetic little neck.”</p>
<p>“Go ahead and try,” said Akira. “It doesn’t matter now—everyone knows about this place. They can take out Shido without me.” </p>
<p>Akechi’s eyes widened. “Everyone?” But he quickly regained his composure. “Of course,” he muttered. “They must have known all along...” </p>
<p>“Your plan would never have worked,” said Akira. “I’d have survived and taken out Shido anyway, you know.”</p>
<p>Akechi glared at him. “What do you know? How do you even know destroying Shido will stop this? I could still kill you. It would be easy.”</p>
<p>Akira looked him straight in the eyes. </p>
<p>“Do it then, coward.”</p>
<p><em>WHAT?</em> screeched Arsène. <em>WHAT IS <span class="u">WRONG</span> WITH YOU?</em></p>
<p><em>He’s not going to do it!</em> Akira thought furiously back. <em>He keeps threatening to, but he’s just standing there like an idiot! </em></p>
<p>
  <em>You have <span class="u">no</span> guarantee—</em>
</p>
<p>And it seemed Arsène was right about that, because the next second Akira heard a click as the barrel of a gun was pointed at his head.</p>
<p><em>Let me out!</em> Arsène demanded, <em>I can knock him over in a second flat, he won’t have time to fire the gun—</em></p>
<p>“You’ve underestimated me,” said Akechi, his voice cold and hard.</p>
<p>Akira could feel his heartbeat in his chest. </p>
<p>“Actually, I think I’ve overestimated you.”</p>
<p>Akechi tilted his head to the side. “Oh?”</p>
<p>“For some reason I didn’t think you were cowardly enough to murder a child.”</p>
<p>Akechi’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You’re hardly a child. Just a status effect. And you seem perfectly happy to pretend to be an adult anyway.” </p>
<p>The gun was still pointed at his head. </p>
<p>“Go on then,” said Akira, facing him properly. “End it, if it’s easier that way.” </p>
<p>
  <em>Akira...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Trust me.</em>
</p>
<p>The gun trembled slightly. </p>
<p>“You don’t know anything,” Akechi insisted. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”</p>
<p>“Causing all those mental shutdowns?” asked Akira. “I know you’ve killed people before.”</p>
<p>“Then why aren’t you <em>afraid?</em>” he roared, brandishing the gun like a sabre. “Why are you just standing there, telling me to do it? Don’t you care about your own life?” </p>
<p>“Of course,” said Akira. “I just care about getting rid of Shido more.”</p>
<p>Akechi gave another horrible laugh. The gun was finally pointed away from Akira, now aimed at the ground. Akechi gripped his head with his other hand, as though it was paining him greatly. </p>
<p>“Getting rid of Shido?” he snarled. “Why do care so much? What’s he done to you?”</p>
<p>“You mean...<em>other</em> than ordering a hit on me?”</p>
<p>“You should hate <em>me</em> for that!” cried Akechi, whirling around to face him. “<em>I’m</em> the one who told him everything about the Phantom Thieves—<em>I’m</em> the one who’s going to <em>kill</em> you—kill all of you!”</p>
<p>“You know, for someone who really wants to kill me, you’re taking an awfully long time to do it. You’ve had, what, five opportunities now?” </p>
<p>Akechi dutifully pointed the gun at him again, his eyes wide and manic. </p>
<p>“Put that thing down,” said Akira.</p>
<p>“Make me,” hissed Akechi.</p>
<p>
  <em><span class="u">I</span> can make him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Shut up.</em>
</p>
<p>“Why are you working for Shido?” asked Akira. “You obviously hate him, so why not just leave? Why not destroy his Palace? You must have known about it.”</p>
<p>“I can’t,” said Akechi, his voice cracked. </p>
<p>“<em>Can’t?</em> Is he blackmailing you?”</p>
<p>“He knows about this place,” said Akechi, and though he was looking at Akira, Akira had the feeling he wasn’t fully seeing him. “Knows I want to destroy him. He must have something in here—some sort of failsafe...it would never work.” </p>
<p>“Does he know <em>I’m</em> here?” </p>
<p>He could be in serious trouble if Shido really had known about his Palace all along—and if he <em>did</em> have a failsafe—</p>
<p>“No,” whispered Akechi. “He can’t possibly...”</p>
<p>Alright. So he was okay for now. Apart from the gun still pointing at his head. That was an issue. </p>
<p>“But you want to destroy him, right?” asked Akira. “You’re not working with him willingly?”</p>
<p>Akechi gasped slightly at the question, like a fish stranded on the beach. “I don’t... I don’t...”</p>
<p>Slowly, very slowly, the gun lowered from Akira’s head until it was pointed at the floor again. </p>
<p>Akechi’s gaze was off somewhere in the middle distance, unseeing. </p>
<p><em>He’s still dangerous,</em> said Arsène.</p>
<p>
  <em>I know, but we can escape now.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You say that as though you aren’t going to come back and check on him the moment you get that letter.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Shut it.</em>
</p>
<p>“I’m going to get the last letter,” said Akira. “Don’t bother trying to stop me again.”</p>
<p>Akechi did not respond. He seemed to be undergoing some sort of protracted mental break, tears leaking from his unmoving eyes. Akira couldn’t really leave him here in good conscience, but he really did need that letter.</p>
<p>“I’ll be back,” he muttered.</p>
<p>Then he headed for the boiler room.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Nothing made sense anymore. </p>
<p>The Phantom Thieves had known about his plan all along, and he hadn’t even guessed at it. And now a child, a mere ten-year-old, was going to destroy Shido before Goro ever got the chance to see the light of hope fade out of his eyes. It couldn’t end like this! But...what the hell could he do now? </p>
<p>Akira seemed to know everything—well, not <em>everything,</em> he didn’t know why Goro was so desperate to end Shido—but he knew about the Palace, the letters, the shutdowns... They <em>all</em> knew. </p>
<p>And none of them had said anything.</p>
<p>Of course, why would they? Goro was the enemy. Always had been, since the moment he voiced his reservations about their group on live television, dragging them into this mess. And Akira...<em>his</em> Akira...he must have known too. They’d led him on a wild goose chase, letting him believe he had the upper hand for weeks, only to trick him just before the end. Only Akira could have come up with such a plan. And now his younger self was adapting it perfectly. </p>
<p>Had the other Phantom Thieves asked him to come here, to try and persuade Goro, knowing he ultimately couldn’t bring himself to kill a child? But no—that was too smart for them. He must have come up with it on his own. What kind of insane creature was he? </p>
<p>Goro was still alive, at least. It was more than he’d have expected, having been discovered for the traitor he was. </p>
<p>Could he really let this go? If Shido found out about his trickery—if the Phantom Thieves changed his heart before Goro ever got the chance to...</p>
<p>No! He couldn’t take it—he hadn’t worked himself to the bone for two years at that monster’s beck and call only to let these ignorant upstarts steal the crowning moment from under him! He had to stop them, but... He couldn’t kill Akira. He’d proved that three times over in their last conversation. While he was still a child, Goro simply couldn’t bring himself to harm him. It was pathetic. He’d killed so many people...but none of them were children. That was his fatal flaw.</p>
<p>Akira had been gone for some time now. </p>
<p>Perhaps he’d met his demise all on his own, without Goro’s assistance. </p>
<p>Almost as if the boy could hear his very thoughts, a small, shadowy figure appeared back above the beams. It crept closer, quickly manifesting into a small boy, with a letter of some sort clutched in his hands. He’d really done it. Somehow...</p>
<p>“Can you hear me?” asked Akira, as he alit on the beam beside Goro.</p>
<p>He looked a little worse for wear than he had when he left, his face pale, and his body trembling slightly—probably from excessive magical drain. He was so young.</p>
<p>“I could still kill you,” muttered Goro, though his gun hung limply in his hands. </p>
<p>“So could gravity,” said Akira, unimpressed, before reaching out and—to Goro’s shock—grabbing his gun right out of his hands.</p>
<p>“What—” he managed to say, before Akira found the magazine release and neatly took it out, tossing it away and putting the gun in his bag. “What are you doing?”</p>
<p>“Good luck killing me now,” said Akira brightly. </p>
<p>“I still have my hands,” snarled Goro. “And that gun was useful—the Shadows—”</p>
<p>“I can deal with the Shadows,” said Akira. “Are you going to come with me or not?”</p>
<p>Goro felt like his brain had been extracted, shaken around and deposited back in his head without anaesthetic. “Where are you going?”</p>
<p>“To the Treasure Room, of course.”</p>
<p>“You can’t go there!” cried Goro. “Shido will—”</p>
<p>“Shido won’t know anything,” said Akira. “You said so yourself.”</p>
<p>Damn brat and his habit of listening to literally everything. “I <em>am</em> coming with you.”</p>
<p>If only to get into Shido’s miserable Treasure Room himself.</p>
<p>“Then make sure to keep up,” said Akira, flashing him a smile, before hurrying along the beams towards the door.</p>
<p>This child was going to be the death of him. And in this place...quite possibly literally. </p>
<hr/>
<p>The route up to the Treasure Room was less eventful than he expected it to be. Mainly because Akira was a whole lot more skilled than he’d expected him to be.</p>
<p>He seemed to understand the Metaverse on a level that was pure instinct, knowing exactly where to hide, and how to dodge around the endless Shadows patrolling the halls. He weaved around them with all the expertise of his older self—perhaps even better, owing to his small size. They didn’t get caught even once, even when, at one point, at Shadow was staring right at them.</p>
<p>“How exactly are you doing this?” asked Goro, on one of the quieter floors.</p>
<p>“Doing what?” asked Akira, turning to stare at him.</p>
<p>“Dodging the Shadows. They don’t even seem to see you.”</p>
<p>“They don’t.”</p>
<p>Goro narrowed his eyes. “Don’t? But that’s impossible. There have been several instances where they’ve been looking right at you.”</p>
<p>“And have they spotted me?”</p>
<p>He made a decent point. </p>
<p>“No, but—”</p>
<p>“This world is built on thoughts,” said Akira, with a shrug. “If I think they won’t see me, they won’t.”</p>
<p>“It isn’t that simple,” said Goro. If avoiding Shadows was as easy as <em>thinking</em> they wouldn’t spot him, he’d do it all the time. “You can’t just ‘think’ something and have it happen—not even in here.” </p>
<p>“Why not?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>“Because it just...it can’t.”</p>
<p>“Sounds like that’s why you can’t do it,” said Akira, smugly. </p>
<p>“Shut it,” growled Goro. </p>
<p>Wasn’t it possible though...? Was his belief that it was illogical holding him back? </p>
<p>No! </p>
<p>He knew the Metaverse better than anyone, and he definitely knew it better than this miserable brat.</p>
<p>“Obviously you have some sort of...strange ability here,” said Goro, as though that made any sense. </p>
<p>Akira looked equally skeptical. “You think?”</p>
<p>“Let’s just keep moving,” he grumbled. </p>
<p>It <em>was</em> strange though. And he wasn’t sure he could put it down to just Akira being a more imaginative child either. It was entirely possible his older self possessed this ability too, after all—he’d been so keen to keep Goro out of the main group while infiltrating Sae’s Palace...perhaps that was why. But if so, then <em>why</em> did Akira have this strange ability? </p>
<p>His possession of so many Personas was strange enough, but Goro had taken it as a mark that they were equals—he possessed the Call of Chaos, Akira had his multitude of Personas—that was what made them a cut above the rest. But this mastery of the Metaverse—this strange connection to it—that put Akira on another level altogether. And he wasn’t sure he liked it. </p>
<p>In fact, it seemed very dangerous indeed. </p>
<p>But he didn’t have too much time to think about it, because soon enough the doors rose before them, as golden and solid and infuriating as they’d always been. </p>
<p>And that wasn’t all that was there.</p>
<p>“Do you have a twin?” asked Akira, peering around the corner where they were hidden. </p>
<p>“No,” muttered Akechi.</p>
<p>It was a cognition, it had to be. But why was it here? Unless...</p>
<p>“It looks kind of dead,” said Akira.</p>
<p>“It’s not,” said Akechi.</p>
<p>“Well then, what is it?”</p>
<p>“Dangerous,” he replied. His fingers were itching to go for his gun, which Akira still had stowed away in his bag. If he could just grab it, he had a spare magazine in his pockets... He reached slowly, carefully out—</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” </p>
<p>Akira’s thin fingers gripped his wrist so tightly he thought the little demon might cut off his blood supply. </p>
<p>“Give me back my gun,” he hissed.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Goro took a deep breath. “Give it back so I can shoot that horrible aberration in the head and we can finally get into the Treasure Room.”</p>
<p>“Why do you need to shoot it?”</p>
<p>Goro really didn’t want to explain to him what that cognition was likely here to do—he didn’t <em>like</em> Akira, but he didn’t think he needed any extra mental scarring on top of Goro’s recent murder attempt. But his furious little face brooked no disagreement—and besides, if he didn’t let go of Goro’s wrist soon he was fairly sure it was going to drop off. </p>
<p>“That <em>thing</em> is here to kill me,” he said.</p>
<p>Akira’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t look disgusted, or even afraid. “You can die in here?” </p>
<p>Well, that... What kind of question even was that?</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” he asked, tugging his hand out of Akira’s grasp while he was distracted. </p>
<p>“In the Metaverse—you can die?”</p>
<p>“Of course you can die! Why wouldn’t you?” </p>
<p>Akira frowned. “Dunno. It just seems...odd.”</p>
<p>Had it been anyone else saying as much, Goro would have laughed and told them what a fool they were, but with Akira... He’d already demonstrated a truly uncanny link to the Metaverse, so if he thought he couldn’t die... But that was beside the point. <em>Goro</em> thought he could die. And that was unquestionably what the cognition was there to see to.</p>
<p>“You remember when I said that I couldn’t go against Shido because he probably had a failsafe in place?”</p>
<p>Akira nodded.</p>
<p>“That’s it,” he said, nodding at the cognition. “He’s the failsafe. He’s here to kill me if I screw up.”</p>
<p>“Like betraying Shido?”</p>
<p>“Precisely.”</p>
<p>“How would he know what you said though? It all happened in here, right?”</p>
<p>Goro sighed. “That’s exactly the point—I imagine it’s his job to patrol this place to see if I’m trying to get to Shido’s Shadow and kill it, and if he finds I am, he ends me. It’s his only purpose here.”</p>
<p>Akira frowned. “Isn’t it a bit...strange that Shido can control his cognitions like that? How is it he can command it so exactly?”</p>
<p>Ugh, this kid was just too damned smart for his own good. It was no wonder he’d grown up to become what he had. </p>
<p>“Shido knows about the cognitive world,” said Goro. “That gives him more control than most people with Palaces.”</p>
<p>“Because you told him?”</p>
<p>Ha. If only. “No.”</p>
<p>Akira glanced back at the cognition. It was still standing there, waiting for them. </p>
<p>“It’s been made specifically for you, right?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>“Most likely,” sighed Goro. He really had been an idiot, hadn’t he? This thing would have stopped him no matter what he’d done. And he’d have died in here alone—another casualty of his own making. What a fool he was.</p>
<p>“Then I should deal with it,” said Akira. </p>
<p>“No!” Goro grabbed his shoulders before he was even fully aware of what he was doing. “You can’t!”</p>
<p>“What do you mean I can’t?” asked Akira, glaring at him.</p>
<p>“He ordered me to kill you too, remember? He’s designed to end you—you wouldn’t have any advantage over it—no more than I would.”</p>
<p>Akira frowned, then tilted his head to the side, contemplating something. “Have you told him about me?”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“About my age.”</p>
<p>Goro sighed. “No. I’ve been hoping you’d turn back before the deadline.” A bit late for that now, in any case.</p>
<p>Akira grinned. “Then don’t worry.”</p>
<p>It was all very well for him to say that—it didn’t matter if he was the most competent ten-year-old Goro had ever met, he was still a ten-year-old. But Akira was nothing if not resourceful, and sensing Goro’s moment of hesitation, he quickly dodged out of his reach and into the corridor proper. Right into the line of sight of his cognitive self. He could have screamed. </p>
<p>“Hi,” said Akira, not even attempting to hide from the cognition. </p>
<p>It responded by looking at him with an expression that could only be described as bewildered. Which was accurate, since that’s what Goro himself was doing too. </p>
<p>“Are you going to kill me?” asked Akira, as though talking about the weather. “I’ll be mad if you are, you know.”</p>
<p>...Goro got the distinct impression that the older Akira really wasn’t that far away from manifesting in the present again, because his younger self was channelling him perfectly. </p>
<p>“That is...my job...” said the cognition, clearly not sure what was happening.</p>
<p>“Think you could not?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>The cognition frowned. “No?”</p>
<p>Akira sighed. “That’s too bad. Arsène?” The demon appeared next to him, and to his cognition’s credit, it didn’t flinch. “Destroy him.”</p>
<p>A flash of silver glinted in the lamplight as the cognition whipped his gun out, pointing it at Akira, but then… Then everything was gone. Darkness—raw, material darkness seemed to explode from where Akira stood, hissing and writhing as it expanded through the hallway, obscuring him from view—obscuring <em>everything</em> from view. A flurry of malicious energy battered and hissed all around him, and for a second he thought Akira might try to kill him too—that he had finally given up on the idea that they could work together. But then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.</p>
<p>The darkness was gone. And Akira...</p>
<p>Akira was on the floor. </p>
<p>His face was deathly white.</p>
<p>Goro peered around the corner—there was no sign of the cognition, which probably meant he’d been hit in the blast. He crept out into the hallway.</p>
<p>“Akira?” he whispered, drawing close.</p>
<p>Akira did not respond.</p>
<p>“Akira?” he whispered again, this time reaching out and feeling for his pulse in his wrist.</p>
<p>It was there, but it was faint. His breathing was shallow. </p>
<p>He’d overdone it again, damn him.</p>
<p>Goro quickly pulled the stamina gel from where he had it stored and rubbed it into Akira’s forehead, hoping it would be enough to rouse him to consciousness.</p>
<p>Thankfully, it wasn’t long until his eyes fluttered open. He still looked so tired...</p>
<p>“Ugh,” he muttered, pushing himself upright, resting his head in his small hands. </p>
<p>“What were you thinking?” hissed Goro. “What was that just now? Did you get the cognition?”</p>
<p>Akira didn’t respond at first, just resting his head on his knees and exhaling deeply. Goro wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated if he did, so he waited for Akira to regain his composure.</p>
<p>After about a minute he lifted his head again. “The cognition’s dead,” he muttered.</p>
<p>“Good,” said Goro. “You’re lucky you aren’t dead too.”</p>
<p>Akira shrugged. “I got him first.” He rose sluggishly to his feet—Goro noticed the letter still grasped tightly in his hand. It was obvious he was exhausted.</p>
<p>“It must be almost four in the morning,” he said. “Are you sure you want to do this now?”</p>
<p>Akira peered at him with a kind of distant curiosity, then shook his head. “Might as well get it over with.”</p>
<p>Goro just nodded. He knew better than to argue with him at this point.</p>
<p>Akira moved slowly over to the doors guarding the Treasure Room, then slid the letter into the final slot. The doors swung mechanically open. And inside...</p>
<p>It was just as he expected.</p>
<p>“The treasure’s up on the stage,” said Goro—not that he needed to, it was plainly visible, even from here. “I’d say your infiltration route is secured, wouldn’t you agree?”</p>
<p>Akira nodded, resting his head in his hands. He was blinking a lot. It couldn’t be more obvious he was about to drop off at any moment. </p>
<p>“Come on,” he said, switching back to his ‘normal’ voice for the first time since he’d entered Shido’s Palace. “Let’s get you back home.”</p>
<p>Akira looked up at him dubiously, even through half-closed eyelids. “Talking like that doesn’t make you sound any more trustworthy, y’know.” </p>
<p>Goro rolled his eyes. “Well, I figured I might as well switch now since we’re heading back to the real world. Come on.”</p>
<p>He held out his hand for Akira to grasp.</p>
<p>Akira took one more skeptical look at him, before taking it.</p>
<p>“If you try anything, I’ll blast you to dust,” he muttered, as Goro began leading him out of the Palace.</p>
<p>Goro chuckled. </p>
<p>“Oh, believe me, I know.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yalby: *attempts to intimidate Child Akira to try and get him to stop being such a nuisance*<br/>Child Akira: *befriends Goro Akechi*<br/>Child Akira: *gets all the way through Shido’s Palace*<br/>Child Akira: *will most likely warn everyone about Yalby as soon as they wake up*<br/>Yalby: Why did I even bother?</p>
<p>Eyy Goro's finally back! And he and kid Akira have finally had a chat that wasn't just one wanting to kill the other. Now, whether this cooperation will continue we'll have to wait and see, but I definitely had a lot of fun writing this chapter! Thanks so much for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The Truth Will Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akira was trying very hard to resist dropping off on the way back to Sojiro’s house, but it was damned hard when even your Persona seemed intent on forcing you to sleep.</p>
<p><em>I’m tired...</em> whined Arsène, accompanied by numerous noises of agreement from his other Personas. </p>
<p><em>We’re almost home!</em> Akira thought angrily back, but he could still feel the dreadful ache in his eyes that warned him he really didn’t have long until he had no choice in the matter.</p>
<p>Akechi had remained mercifully silent the whole way back, probably lost in his own thoughts. Just as well, since Akira was in no condition to make any further conversation. He supposed he should just count himself lucky that Akechi hadn’t suddenly flipped on him again and started in with the death threats. He still wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t happen now, but he had no choice but to let him guide him back to the house—after all, had he not had Akechi’s hand there to keep him upright, he’d probably have passed out on the pavement some time ago. </p>
<p>Finally, after what seemed like hours, Sojiro’s house rose into view. </p>
<p>“Are his doors locked?” Akechi wondered aloud. </p>
<p>“Windows aren’t,” said Akira, clinging desperately to consciousness. </p>
<p>He stumbled towards the and clumsily attempted to lift himself through—only just managing it, and colliding heavily with the floor on the other side. </p>
<p>A voice from within. </p>
<p>“That had better be you, Akira!” </p>
<p>Great. Futaba was awake. </p>
<p>“It is,” he said sleepily.</p>
<p>There was a <em>click</em> and a lamp flickered on in the corner of the room. Akira only just managed to realise he needed to say something as Futaba’s mouth dropped open in shock. Probably at the sight of Akechi looming ominously in the window behind him. </p>
<p>“It’s okay,” he said, before she could scream. “Turns out he wants to get rid of Shido too.” </p>
<p>Futaba looked like she was going to say something but was quickly cut off as Morgana poked his head around the sofa. </p>
<p>“You brought <em>him?”</em> screeched Morgana. “But he’s—”</p>
<p>“Trying to kill me, I know,” said Akira, picking himself up off the floor and stumbling over to his blanket. “Well, not anymore.”</p>
<p>“Can I come in?” asked Akechi, shivering outside. </p>
<p>Futaba rounded on Akira. “But how can we trust him? Has he really just decided not to do it anymore? And why did he come back here with you—doesn’t he have his own house?” </p>
<p>“<em>I’m</em> the one who stopped him from collapsing,” said Akechi self-importantly. </p>
<p>“He’s not wrong,” said Akira, flopping down onto his blanket. He was <em>so</em> tired. </p>
<p>“Where did you go?” asked Morgana. </p>
<p>“Shido’s Palace,” said Akira, lying flat on his back. </p>
<p>“What?” yelled Futaba and Morgana in unison.</p>
<p>“But <em>why?</em> We said we were gonna go tomorrow—you agreed!” Futaba fumed. </p>
<p>Akira gave a non-committal shrug and closed his eyes. It was like a weight lifting off him. “Just felt like it, I guess.”</p>
<p>“That’s not an excuse!” he could dimly hear Morgana saying, but they were all drifting further and further away...</p>
<p>“Is he seriously going to sleep?”</p>
<p>“Hey, asshole, what did you do?”</p>
<p>All he wanted...was to sleep...</p>
<hr/>
<p>Well, this was a fine mess Akira had left him in. Really he ought to have expected it—it couldn’t have been more obvious the boy was going to pass out the moment he got home, but still—he could have offered a <em>bit</em> more explanation than he did when he got there. And now Goro was stuck out in the freezing cold, being glared at by a fifteen-year-old and a cat, with no obvious way back to his apartment. Great.</p>
<p>“I haven’t done anything,” he said, glowering at Akira’s unconscious body. “Don’t you think if I wanted to get rid of him I’d have done it before bringing him all the way back here?” </p>
<p>It had been a long, cold trek, and killing Akira, dumping his body somewhere and heading back to his apartment would have cut it in half, if not into a quarter. Really, these two didn’t know how good they had it. </p>
<p>“He has a point,” muttered Morgana.</p>
<p>“So what? He has a soft spot for kids, we all know it. If it was normal Akira I bet he <em>would</em> have killed him.” </p>
<p>She...wasn’t necessarily wrong about that, but the point stood that he <em>hadn’t</em> killed Akira, and that, he thought, was the important thing.</p>
<p>“Are you going to let me in or not?” he asked, his breath coming out as steam in the cold autumn air. “People are going to get suspicious if we keep talking through the window like this.”</p>
<p>Futaba and Morgana exchanged a glance. </p>
<p>Ridiculous, all of this. </p>
<p>“Fine,” said Futaba, but she didn’t sound happy about it. “Come in.”</p>
<p>It seemed they had no intention of unlocking the door for him, so instead he was forced to haphazardly clamber through the window, landing less than gracefully on the other side. He was pretty sure he heard one of them snicker. Bastards.</p>
<p>“So,” he said, standing up straight and brushing himself off, “I suppose you have questions.”</p>
<p>Not that he particularly wanted to answer any of them, but he likely didn’t have any choice unless he wanted to be cast out into the freezing streets again. </p>
<p>“Of course we do!” said Morgana, fluffing his tail up. “What are you even doing? We thought you were going to kill Akira, but now you’re helping him? Are you just crazy or something?” </p>
<p>Akechi winced a bit at that, but honestly it was hard to argue against the accusation. No sane person would actually decide to go against Shido, after all. And yet here he was. </p>
<p>“I decided that letting him live would be more advantageous.” </p>
<p>Technically it was true. And it also meant he didn’t have to kill a child, which was even better.</p>
<p>“Oh, so not because murder is wrong or anything,” said Futaba sarcastically. </p>
<p>“He’s alive, isn’t he?” said Goro, with a shrug. </p>
<p>“Guess we should scrape on our knees and thank you for that, should we?” She glowered at him.</p>
<p>This wasn’t going well.</p>
<p>“What happened in the Palace?” asked Morgana. “Obviously you met Akira—what did he tell you? Why did you change your mind?”</p>
<p>Goro couldn’t stop the sigh from escaping him. This was going to be a long story no matter how he decided to tell it. </p>
<p>“May I sit down?”  </p>
<p>Futaba looked at Morgana, who nodded reluctantly. He went over and settled himself on the sofa. </p>
<p>This was so awkward. </p>
<p>Whenever he’d thought about the possibility of the Phantom Thieves discovering his true identity, he’d always envisioned it as being a dramatic showdown—something he’d remember for the rest of his days. Not...sitting awkwardly in Sojiro Sakura’s living room, facing down a teenager and a cat, with a preteen asleep by his feet. None of this was going at all how he expected.</p>
<p>“I, um... I’m not really sure how to start,” he said, with a nervous chuckle that sounded painfully fake, even to him. </p>
<p>“Maybe with why you changed your mind so suddenly,” said Futaba. “You didn’t seem like you were going to before.”</p>
<p>“Well, had I known that you all knew about my plan all along, that might not have been the case,” said Goro, with a smile he hoped seemed genuine. It was obvious from the look on Futaba’s face that it did not. “Truly I have to commend you on hiding it from me for so long. I’d never have guessed if I hadn’t run into Akira in Shido’s Palace. Though I admit I’m curious—was that your plan all along? To let me think my plan was running smoothly then take out Shido while I was unawares?”</p>
<p>Futaba and Morgana exchanged an awkward glance that told him all he needed to know.</p>
<p>“That wasn’t...quite the plan,” Morgana admitted, ears flattened. “But that isn’t the point! This is about you, not us!”</p>
<p>“Ah yes, you’re quite right,” said Goro, trying hard not to seem too irritated at the deflection. “I suppose...once I realised you knew, it seemed pointless to fight it any longer. You outwitted me.”</p>
<p>He laughed, but there was bitterness barely masked beneath the surface, and Morgana and Futaba clearly heard it too. </p>
<p>“To be honest...I thought you’d be more pissed than this,” said Futaba, eyeing him warily. “Given what we’ve heard of you on the phone I thought you might have some cackling villainous breakdown...but I guess I’ve been watching too much anime.” </p>
<p>She gave a disappointed sigh.</p>
<p>“Well, I can’t pretend I wasn’t angry initially,” Goro admitted, trying to push the memory of waving a gun in Akira’s face out of his mind. “But there’s really no point anymore. And besides, I’m too tired.”</p>
<p>He almost envied Akira, dreaming away on the floor. He’d been up at least as long, after all. It must be almost five in the morning—people would be waking up soon. </p>
<p>“So what’s your deal with Shido?” asked Futaba, pushing her glasses up her nose. “We never quite worked it out—I mean, he calls the shots, right? Is he blackmailing you or something?”</p>
<p>Ah, fantastic—the one topic that might make him actually lose it had come up. Still, they’d never trust him if he didn’t explain. </p>
<p>...That said, did they really <em>need</em> to trust him? Couldn’t he just be the untrustworthy teammate—always there with a chance of stabbing them in the back? Then again, he supposed that, technically speaking, that was what he’d been all along. Ugh, to think this group of nitwits had outsmarted him... </p>
<p>Really, he just needed to answer the question—the sooner he did it the sooner he could never think about it ever again. </p>
<p>“I’ve always wanted to destroy Shido,” he said. </p>
<p>That was all they needed to know, right? That was all that was important, really...</p>
<p>“What? Why?” asked Morgana.</p>
<p>“You have something against politicians?” Futaba speculated. </p>
<p>“No,” said Goro, biting back the anger boiling on the tip of his tongue. “Although he is a uniquely vile human being, I’ll grant you that.” </p>
<p>“So what is it then?” asked Morgana. “Did he do something to you?”</p>
<p>Goro couldn’t help but chuckle. “You could say that.” The truth hung heavy on his chest. “He’s my father.”</p>
<p>Morgana and Futaba stared at him, eyes wide. </p>
<p>“What?” asked Morgana, the first to regain speech. “He’s... But then why...?”</p>
<p>“Shido’s hurt many different people,” said Goro, the bitterness now rising up uncontrollably. “Few worse than my mother. She led a wretched life, only made worse by his presence, and because of him...myself as well.”</p>
<p>Futaba frowned, but didn’t say anything. </p>
<p>“She committed suicide when I was quite young,” he said, forcing himself to say the words quickly, not to linger on them. “She couldn’t bear the shame of it all.”</p>
<p>“You said so before,” she murmured. “But I had no idea that Shido...”</p>
<p>“Few people know the extent of his crimes,” said Goro, swallowing hard, somewhat relieved they’d gone onto the easier topic of <em>despising</em> Shido. “He goes to great lengths to cover them up, which was why I...why I...”</p>
<p>The two of them sat in silence, waiting for him to regain speech. </p>
<p>“Why, once I discovered my ability to enter the Metaverse, I offered my services to him...to clear up his political rivals.”</p>
<p>Morgana tilted his head to the side, and Futaba also looked confused. </p>
<p>He sighed and shook his head. “I must sound deranged, mustn’t I? Going on about hating him, then admitting I offered to help him?”</p>
<p>Futaba nodded in agreement, which made an unhinged chuckle slide out of his throat. </p>
<p>“Well, it was all part of my grand plan, you see—once I discovered my powers, I decided I wanted revenge on the system that had tossed me aside and decided I was worth nothing—and most of all I wanted revenge on the man who’d made my life hell in the first place: Masayoshi Shido. I wanted to become his most trusted ally—the one who knew all his secrets, all so that, at the very height of his victory, I could bring it all crashing down around his ears.”</p>
<p>His cheeks felt wet, but his face ached from the smile he was still forcing upon it—unable to do anything but try desperately to maintain the facade, even as he brought it crashing down around him. </p>
<p>“But...I was stupid.” He blinked back the tears furiously, as the realisation finally solidified itself in his mind. “He never came to rely on me, and soon enough I was caught up in his web too—and all the time he let me believe I was in control—I was so <em>stupid!” </em></p>
<p>Rage was building within him now, faster and hotter than he’d ever felt it before. </p>
<p>“He was going to toss me aside like a dirty rag—even after everything I’d done for him—and I knew it—and I ignored it—ignored it until—until...” </p>
<p>Tears were choking him. He must look utterly pathetic right now, sobbing his heart out to the very people he’d been planning to kill until only a few short hours ago. He was so <em>weak.</em> Truly. They would be right to hate him. Everyone would. </p>
<p>“Until now.” Morgana had padded closer to him, now looking up at him with concern. Concern he didn’t need or deserve. </p>
<p>“I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw him in there,” said Goro, continuing with the story in a desperate attempt to ignore everything else. “Akira, I mean. I thought I must be hallucinating—then I decided to follow him—to find out what he knew—if I needed to...put an end to him, after all.”</p>
<p>Futaba’s eyes hardened a bit at that, but she nodded at him to continue. </p>
<p>“But he spotted me,” Goro couldn’t help but smile slightly as he glanced at the sleeping figure. “Too sharp by half, this child, you know.”</p>
<p>Morgana exhaled sharply. “Tell me about it.”</p>
<p>“He confronted me, and I knew the game was up. I threatened to kill him but he just didn’t seem to care.”</p>
<p>Futaba rolled her eyes. “Typical Akira,” she muttered. </p>
<p>“Anyway, I realised I was outsmarted, and he offered to let me help take out Shido, if I didn’t kill him. We got the last letter—secured the route to the Treasure, and...well, I suppose here we are.”</p>
<p>He took a deep, shuddering breath. He felt a little like he’d lost part of his soul, telling them everything like that—as though some enormous, unseeable weight had lifted from his shoulders. It felt...strangely peaceful. Sitting and waiting for their judgement, with no control over what they felt or thought about him anymore. Almost freeing. </p>
<p>And they sat in silence for a <em>long</em> time. </p>
<p>He could only guess what was going through their heads—did they still hate him? They had every right to, after all. After all he’d done, was there any chance of forgiveness? Did he even want forgiveness? Could they really accept working with a killer like him? </p>
<p>Futaba raised her head, looking him straight in the eyes. Her lips were pressed thin.</p>
<p>“When you were working with Shido, did he...” Her voice trembled, but her eyes were cold. “Did he ask you to kill her?”</p>
<p>Goro swallowed hard. It was obvious who she was talking about. He should have known it would come up sooner or later. “Yes. He did.”</p>
<p>Futaba didn’t break eye-contact. “And did you?”</p>
<p>He could have explained it all—how he hadn’t intended to—how, at that point, he only knew how to cause mental shutdowns, that he had no notion that his victims remained animated even after their souls had left them. Animated enough to say...unknowingly stumble into traffic. Shido had known though. But none of that mattered anymore. She was dead. And ultimately, he was still the one responsible.</p>
<p>“I did.”</p>
<p>Futaba exhaled sharply and balled her hands into fists, pressing them into her sides so tightly it must have ached. Her hair fell over her eyes, obscuring them from view. Not that he needed to see them to know she was on the verge of tears.</p>
<p>“Futaba...” said Morgana, clearly sensing her distress.</p>
<p>“What?” she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “What are you going to say? That I should just forgive him? That we should all just get along from now on?” Her head shot upright, and her brown eyes burnt with loathing, piercing him down to his very soul. “He <em>killed</em> my mom!” </p>
<p>And even though he’d expected it, it still hurt somehow to hear it. But he deserved it. It was just as she said, after all.</p>
<p>She rose from her seat, her whole body shaking as she marched up to him.</p>
<p>“He was going to kill Akira too—would have done it tonight if he wasn’t still a kid. What do have to say to that, huh, Akechi? So you feel guilty about working for Shido—well what about all the rest of us? Do you even care that you would have ripped away half my family without even thinking about it? Did that matter to you? Or is this all still about your own personal agenda?”</p>
<p>Did he care? As Futaba Sakura stood before him, trembling, her eyes flooding with furious tears as she glowered down at him, so righteously angry at what he might have done? </p>
<p>And the honest answer was...no. He didn’t think he did. </p>
<p>He really was...some sort of monster.</p>
<p>“I guess I really don’t,” he said, and the smile he wore as he said it somehow felt faker and more disgusting than any he’d ever forced on his face before. And yet...he couldn’t drop it. He just couldn’t. His face was contorted, unable to match the truth of the words coming out of his mouth. Just how corrupted had he become? “I don’t care about you at all. I didn’t even think about it before coming here tonight.”</p>
<p>Futaba blinked, the anger evaporating—quickly replaced by abject horror as the true weight of what he’d just said finally settled on her. It was true though. And it was only right that she understand why it was he was really here. He only had one goal left in life: getting vengeance on his bastard of a father. And if they got in the way again? Then...they were still dying, either way. He’d given up too much now. There was no way back anymore. Not with this much blood on his hands.</p>
<p>“You would really just say that, even knowing I could tell the others exactly what you are now?” asked Futaba, still not quite comprehending.</p>
<p>“Tell them if you want,” said Goro. “I have nothing left to hide. All I care about is making Shido suffer. We can work together or apart—it doesn’t matter to me.” But...he should probably clarify one thing first. “I should say though: I have no interest in killing any of you anymore—as I said before, it’s just not practical if Shido’s soon to be defeated anyway.” </p>
<p>Futaba’s eyes narrowed again—but not with hatred this time. Instead it was more like...disgust. </p>
<p>“You know, when you came here tonight, I thought there might actually be some regret inside you somewhere for all you’d done. You really had me going with how you were crying as you explained it all. But deep down you really don’t care for anyone but yourself, do you?” The light on her face shifted slightly, and the disgust quickly faded to cold calculation. Futaba was more like her mother than she might ever have guessed. “What are you going to do after this? Shido’s men aren’t just going to drop everything they’re doing because he’s out of commission, y’know. They’ll come after you. Might even kill you.” </p>
<p>“Let them come,” said Goro. “Once Shido’s gone I’ll have nothing left to live for.”</p>
<p>“Bullshit!” she roared. Then she took a step back, apparently surprised by her own ferocity. “You helped him build his network—helped <em>all</em> of them get into the positions they’re in now. If you really want to make up for what you’ve done then you’d destroy them too.”</p>
<p>Goro couldn’t help but laugh.</p>
<p>“What’s so funny?” she growled.</p>
<p>“Who says I want to make up for anything?” he asked. “I told you before: my only concern is bringing Shido to his knees—that’s all it’s ever been. I don’t care anything about the rest of it—all I’ve been doing all this time is to help me towards that end, and this hasn’t changed anything. I <em>don’t</em> regret what I’ve done—I’d do it all again a <em>hundred</em> times if it meant I’d get to see Shido <em>burning in hell</em> like he deserves!”</p>
<p>He wasn’t quite sure when he began shouting, but Futaba had shrunk from him back towards her seat, and Morgana had retreated to the other side of the sofa. It was as he’d always thought, after all. In the end...everyone would be disgusted by him at his core. </p>
<p>He took a step back, brushing his clothes off again. </p>
<p>“Well, I won’t make you decide now,” he said, glancing up at the lightening sky outside. The trains would be running again by now, after all. “Just let me know before you decide to take out Shido’s Shadow. I’ll be very angry if you attempt to do it all without me, after all.”</p>
<p>And with one last, fake, contorted smile, he retreated back through the window, and onto the streets of Tokyo once more. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Me, writing this chapter: Oh, Goro’s finally going to confess to his crimes and kind of get on equal footing with the PTs.<br/>Futaba: *confronts Goro about her mom*<br/>Goro: *dissociates from his emotions and escalates the situation entirely unnecessarily*<br/>Everything: *happens*<br/>Me: Geez there goes my outline.</p>
<p>So this chapter didn't go quite as planned, but sometimes you've just gotta go with it! Now it's...probably going to be up to poor old Akira to actually sort out the mess they've gotten themselves into. Kid will <em>really</em> need a break after all this.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Reparations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akira wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke up. </p>
<p>Light streamed through the thin curtains, bathing the room in a gentle yellow glow, dust particles hovering in the air in the beams of sunlight. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around.</p>
<p>He picked himself up off the floor and shuffled into the corner to get dressed, thankful that his clothes would at least shield him from the late autumn cold. Having finally achieved a decent level of warmth, he quickly went to retrieve his bag, briefly checking to make sure the diary was still safe inside. It was. Good. He slung it over his shoulder, then turned to look at the door at the end of the hallway. And it was only then that he realised he wasn’t entirely sure what it was he was meant to be doing today.</p>
<p>He’d gotten the last letter, after all. Possibly even persuaded Akechi not to kill him. It all felt...a little like a dream.</p>
<p>He blinked a few times, wiping the sleep dust from his eyes. It <em>still</em> felt a bit like a dream, to be honest. Where was everyone? </p>
<p>He wandered into the main hallway, looking around for any signs of life. Even Morgana seemed to have left him. The house was empty. </p>
<p>It was so quiet he could hear the birds singing through the window, sitting outside and pouring their hearts out, even in spite of the awful chill. They sounded just like the birds back home—and for a moment—just for the smallest moment—Akira could imagine himself back there. </p>
<p>The house was empty—it always was—but the sun shone warm through the windows, even on the coldest December day. He was standing in the hallway, his bag slung over his shoulder, listening to the birds outside. It was quiet. It was...peaceful. </p>
<p>School would most likely be loud and boring, and then he’d hang around in the library, where it was quieter, but still boring, and eventually he’d return home, and it would be dark, and he’d have to make himself dinner. But for now it was just...calm. And the thoughts that buzzed incessantly around his head stilled for a moment. And he thought, in those moments, that happiness—true happiness, that was—must feel something like this. </p>
<p>And he thought the same thing now, standing in the hallway of Sojiro Sakura’s house, in the quiet, and the calm. Maybe the first moment of true quiet he’d had since coming to the future. </p>
<p>So he stood, and he waited, drinking in the peace for as long as he could—for he knew all too well that moments like this were fleeting. </p>
<p>And then, at last, he stepped out of the door.</p>
<hr/>
<p>As it turned out, his absentee guardians weren’t too far away at all. Sojiro’s café, the Leblanc, was clearly being used as their rendezvous—he heard them moving about upstairs the moment he went in. </p>
<p>“Ah, there you are,” said Sojiro, upon spotting him. “I was wondering when you’d wake up. Finally taking after your older self, huh?” </p>
<p>“I suppose so,” said Akira, no longer feeling the need to shrink at comparisons to his older self. “Are the others here?”</p>
<p>“They’re just upstairs,” said Sojiro. “Want to go and join them?”</p>
<p>He nodded. He needed to work out what they were planning, after all. </p>
<p>“Go on up then,” said Sojiro, with a chuckle.</p>
<p>Akira quickly headed over to the stairs and began climbing, but paused halfway as their conversation finally became audible.</p>
<p>“We’ve already established that he no longer has any interest in killing Akira,” said Makoto, and going by her voice she sounded very tired. </p>
<p>“The problem isn’t that he might kill Akira, it’s that he’s a bastard!” cried Ryuji. “He straight up said he didn’t care about killing Futaba’s mom!”</p>
<p>“Or the older Akira,” interjected Futaba. </p>
<p>“Or the older Akira!”</p>
<p>“But, if we don’t team up, he might still go after us,” Ann pointed out uncertainly. “Wouldn’t it be best to avoid that until we can deal with him properly?” </p>
<p>“Ann-chan has a point,” said Haru. “Wouldn’t it be better to stay on his good side for now?”</p>
<p>“Ugh, I hate having to kowtow to that maniac!” said Ryuji, and there was a <em>bang</em> from upstairs.</p>
<p>“Careful!” hissed Morgana. “This is Akira’s room you’re screwing up!” </p>
<p>“Right, sorry,” said Ryuji, sheepishly. “Speaking of, where is he? I mean, he wouldn’t still be asleep, right?” </p>
<p>An awkward silence settled upstairs. Akira stayed put, but eyed the bottom of the stairs. He could get down there pretty quickly in an emergency. </p>
<p>“I dunno, he seemed pretty exhausted,” said Futaba, awkwardly.</p>
<p>“Not to mention he’d already been through the Palace during the day with us as well,” said Yusuke. “I think it is safe to assume he’s still unconscious.” </p>
<p>“We should check on him soon anyway,” said Morgana, quietly. “He probably won’t be happy if he finds out we messed up his deal with Akechi, y’know?” </p>
<p>Morgana was right about that. Still, it sounded like whatever had happened while he was asleep, Akechi had started it, so he couldn’t really blame them for being hesitant. The important thing was that it still sounded like Akechi wasn’t planning on killing him, and that was Akira’s main priority.</p>
<p>His stomach grumbled. His second priority, it seemed, was getting lunch. Or dinner. Whatever time it was. </p>
<p>He crept down the stairs, trying to avoid notice, but Sojiro quickly spotted him. </p>
<p>“How’d it go?” he asked, looking at Akira in a concerned sort of way. </p>
<p>“Fine,” said Akira, as fake-brightly as he could. “I’m just going out for a walk.”</p>
<p>“Well, don’t wander too far,” said Sojiro, frowning. “We don’t want you getting lost again.”</p>
<p>“I won’t,” said Akira, edging towards the door. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”</p>
<p>“Alright,” sighed Sojiro.</p>
<p>The plan was to go to the convenience store and see if there was anything that looked worth eating (and that he could afford at this point), then to retreat to Sojiro’s house and work out how to establish contact with Akechi so he didn’t have another stupid falling out with the Phantom Thieves. He was so close to solving everything now—he couldn’t let a simple difference of personality pull it all apart. The trouble was he didn’t <em>know</em> how to contact Akechi—he didn’t go to the same school as the others, as far as Akira was aware, and Akira didn’t have his phone number or anything. He might have disappeared from this dimension entirely. </p>
<p>A dull ache was beginning to form in his forehead. He had a feeling that this must be what the Phantom Thieves had felt like whenever he’d disappeared on them at the beginning. For the first time since arriving, he found himself sympathising with them. </p>
<p>But that was all by way of being a side-issue. Right now, he needed to get something to eat.</p>
<p>That was—until he emerged from the alleyway and ran straight into someone much taller than him.</p>
<p>The words, “Watch where you’re going!” were already halfway out of his mouth when he looked up and saw exactly who it was he’d run into.</p>
<p>“You!” he cried, pointing directly at the confused face of Goro Akechi. “What have you been doing?”</p>
<p>“I—” Akechi tried to say, but Akira didn’t let him finish. </p>
<p>“I leave you alone for a couple of hours and already you pick a fight with everyone?” </p>
<p>Akechi was looking frantically up and down the street, as though terrified a police officer was going to come and arrest them for causing a public uproar. Just as well. He deserved it for causing Akira such trouble. </p>
<p>“What do you have to say for yourself?” asked Akira, putting his hands on his hips.</p>
<p>“Let’s—let’s go somewhere a bit quieter to talk about this,” said Akechi nervously. “There’s no need to cause a scene in public.”</p>
<p>“Well, where do you suggest?” asked Akira, still annoyed. “We can’t go the Leblanc, because, in case you forgot, you’re public enemy number one over there right now.” </p>
<p>“I know that,” said Akechi, at least having the decency to look mildly ashamed. “There is another café not far away though. I can take you there if you like.”</p>
<p>Hmm. It was a sound proposal.</p>
<p>“Do they have food?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Fine then.”</p>
<p>They began walking together in silence, and Akira observed that Akechi looked rather the worse for wear after their meeting last night. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and though he was still wearing his usual get-up, it seemed not to fit him quite right, as though he was only just hanging on to his presentable public persona by his fingertips. But of course, he’d have to as long as he was out here in the daylight. Few things would be more suspicious to passers-by than a strange teenager trying to strangle a small boy, after all. </p>
<p>“Here we are,” said Akechi, pointing tiredly to a small, unobtrusive building, which, if the sign was correct, was indeed a café. It wasn’t as fancy as the Leblanc, but equally, it was more classy than the dingy ones back home. </p>
<p>“I’ll find us a seat,” said Akira, pushing the door open and going inside before Akechi could protest.</p>
<p>Fortunately Akechi seemed to have been considerably declawed by the brutal light of day, and went obediently to order them both something from the counter before making his way miserably back to the booth Akira had chosen.</p>
<p>One thing was for certain—whatever had happened last night, Akechi still wasn’t happy about it. Though it was unclear as of yet whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. </p>
<p>“So,” said Akira.</p>
<p>“So...?” asked Akechi, dully.</p>
<p>“So—what happened?” Akira insisted. “What did you <em>say?”</em></p>
<p>“Haven’t they told you?” asked Akechi, raising an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Of course not,” said Akira, “I was eavesdropping, so they didn’t say anything to me. But they <em>did</em> seem angry at you.”</p>
<p>Akechi closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands, assuming a posture dangerously close to outright despair. He gave an immense sigh.</p>
<p>“I told them...I didn’t care about killing Futaba’s mother. Or your older self.”</p>
<p>Now it was Akira’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Oh. Is that it?” </p>
<p>Akechi’s face shot up from his hands and he flashed a ferocious glare at Akira. That was more like it.</p>
<p>“What do you mean, ‘is that it?’” </p>
<p>“I mean, is that it?” said Akira, patiently. </p>
<p>“You aren’t...offended?” asked Akechi, looking more confused than ever.</p>
<p>Akira shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me how you feel about killing other people. All I care about is that you’re <em>not</em> killing them. Or to be more specific: me.” </p>
<p>Akechi gave a rather strangled sounding laugh that made the waiter speed up considerably as he gave them their drinks and food. </p>
<p>“Is that...really all you have to say?”</p>
<p>“What else should I say about it?” asked Akira, sipping at the tea Akechi had ordered him. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m angry you were such an idiot about it, but I’m not personally offended or anything. It’s not like I actually knew the people you’re talking about.”</p>
<p>“You’re rather cold-hearted, aren’t you?” said Akechi, still looking somewhat amused as he sipped at his own drink. “And here I thought young people were supposed to be more empathetic.”</p>
<p>“Have you forgotten being ten?” asked Akira. “I don’t know anyone my age who cares about anything. And really, I have no reason to be upset. You’ve killed people, so what? They’re dead—nothing you can do about it now. I have no interest in making you pay for your crimes or whatever it is the others are bothered about. I’m not even going to be around much longer. All I care about is taking out Shido, not dying, and not letting my older self die either. Make sense?” </p>
<p>Akechi frowned, picking at the hem of his sleeve. “I suppose so.” He looked up, staring directly at Akira. “Though you seem quite maladjusted, if you don’t mind me saying so.” </p>
<p>“I refuse to be lectured on maladjustment by a teenage serial killer,” said Akira, narrowing his eyes. “What’s your excuse?” Akechi opened his mouth to speak but Akira cut him off. “Don’t want to talk about it? Great, neither do I. So let’s agree to keep the past in the past, shall we?” </p>
<p>He smiled, but Akechi did not smile back, instead frowning and picking at his food. Akira took a couple of bites out of his own. </p>
<p>“Listen,” he said, putting his fork down, “after this we can go back to the café and we’ll work something out with the others—they’ll listen if I’m there.”</p>
<p>He wasn’t actually entirely sure that was true—he was still just a bratty kid in their eyes, after all, but they’d seemed more willing to compromise lately...</p>
<p>“What if I don’t want to?” asked Akechi, a hard light entering his eyes. “What if I meant every word I said, and I refuse to apologise?”</p>
<p>“Then you’re an idiot,” said Akira.</p>
<p>Akechi glared at him. “Excuse me?”</p>
<p>“I said, you’re an idiot,” said Akira, glaring right back. “You can’t defeat Shido all by yourself—not if going up against him was anything like the rest of his Palace—you have to know that. So your only other option is teaming up with us, and to do that you have to play <em>nice.”</em></p>
<p>Akechi looked like he was about to say something derogatory, but Akira cut him off.</p>
<p>“It’s only going to be for a couple of days. You can pretend to be remorseful that long, right? Or is destroying Shido not worth that much to you anymore?” </p>
<p>For a moment, something truly deadly entered Akechi’s eyes, and Akira could tell just by his expression that he was sorely tempted to drop the social niceties and strangle him there and then, but it seemed he just about managed to contain himself. </p>
<p>“You don’t know anything,” he spat.</p>
<p>“Perhaps not,” said Akira, narrowly, “but <em>you</em> know I’m right.” He sighed, and folded his hands in his lap. “Listen, I don’t want you to fight the others, but ultimately the choice of whether or not you’re going to get along with them is up to you.”</p>
<p>“It’s not as simple as that,” said Akechi, though he looked somewhat cowed by Akira’s words. “You have no idea what it’s like, hiding behind this mask all day long, unable to say anything for fear of someone finding you out. I don’t want to live like that forever—not after this.”</p>
<p>“Like I said, it won’t be forever, just a few days.”</p>
<p>Akechi scowled, looking away from him, at the wall. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.</p>
<p>“It just feels wrong, lying to them again after all this.”</p>
<p>Akira watched him carefully, noticing the way he seemed desperate not to look Akira in the eyes—staring at anything else instead—the table, the walls...</p>
<p>“Well, I suppose if it means that much to you I can’t exactly force you to apologise,” said Akira, twisting his fingers into knots. “Though it will make working together harder, if you can’t find it in you to be agreeable.” </p>
<p>“I don’t want to lie again,” said Akechi, shaking his head. “I already know everyone hates who I truly am—why bother trying to be ‘agreeable’? It’s never worked before—everyone can tell it’s all fake. I’m just...a horrible human being. No matter how hard I try to hide it.” </p>
<p>His hands were pressed flat against the table, and his expression made it obvious he didn’t like discussing the subject. Still... His words sounded familiar, somehow. Where had he heard something like that before?</p>
<p>“Fine,” said Akira, leaning back in his seat. “In that case we’ll just have to see if they accept you, won’t we?”</p>
<p>Akechi looked slightly pained by the suggestion, but eventually nodded. “I suppose we will...”</p>
<p>“Come on then,” said Akira, rising from his seat. “Better to get it over with.”</p>
<p>Akechi sighed. </p>
<p>“If you insist.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>The journey back was short, but…something felt off. Not with Akechi, he still seemed fairly despondent, but instead something…inside. Something unseeable. It was like he was…more distant, somehow. As though his thoughts were no longer quite his own. An odd certainty had come over him back when he was negotiating with Akechi, but now the strange feeling lingered it wasn’t nearly as calming as it had been before. Something was wrong with him. But he wasn’t quite sure what it was.</p>
<p>The bell rang as they stepped through the door.</p>
<p>“Oh, you’re back,” said Sojiro, raising his eyebrows. “And you’ve brought a friend.”</p>
<p>Akira nodded. Better to let him believe that than try and explain what was actually going on. </p>
<p>“Well, don’t cause too much trouble up there,” he said, as they began to ascend the stairs. </p>
<p>“Hey, who’s coming up?” came Ryuji’s voice as they clambered up.</p>
<p>“Akira’s probably woken up,” sighed Futaba.</p>
<p>“Hi, Akira!” called Ann as he appeared at the top of the stairs. But she quickly became silent as Akechi appeared behind him. </p>
<p>An oppressive stillness fell over the room as they entered, Akechi staying awkwardly by the stairs, as he walked towards the middle of the room. </p>
<p>“Oh, um, where did you run into him, Akira?” asked Makoto, who clearly had no idea what to make of the situation. </p>
<p>“Outside,” said Akira. “He’s part of the group now, isn’t he?”</p>
<p>“Well, yes, but—”</p>
<p>“Bull<em>shit</em> he’s part of the group!” cried Ryuji. </p>
<p>“Ryuji!” yelled Ann.</p>
<p>“He doesn’t know what this asshole said last night!”</p>
<p>“Actually, I do,” said Akira, holding up a hand. “I overheard you all talking about it earlier.”</p>
<p>There was an awkward silence.</p>
<p>Futaba sighed deeply. “To think he’d use his eavesdropping proficiency against us...” </p>
<p>“Well?” demanded Ryuji, though he seemed rather unbalanced by Akira’s nonchalance. “Don’t you have anything to say about it?” </p>
<p>“Not really, no.”</p>
<p>“The idea that this man would happily murder you if you were but a few years older doesn’t bother you?” asked Yusuke. </p>
<p>Akira shrugged. He really didn’t get why this was such a big deal. “He’s <em>not</em> killing me. And he no longer has any reason to kill the older me either. <em>Right?”</em></p>
<p>He turned and gave Akechi a hard glare at this juncture, and he seemed to get the message because he just nodded weakly. </p>
<p>Another awkward silence ensued.</p>
<p>“Well,” said Makoto, clearing her throat, “it does seem as though Akira has the matter in hand...sort of.”</p>
<p>“He’s still not sorry about killing my mom,” Futaba grumbled. </p>
<p>“But he <em>is</em> going to be helpful in taking out Shido,” said Akira, feeling somewhat obligated to defend Akechi, being as it was his fault he’d been involved at all. “You can’t ignore that.”</p>
<p>Futaba gave a massive sigh. “Suppose not,” she muttered. “But I’m not happy about him being here.”</p>
<p>“Well neither am I, but until we finish the job I guess we’ll have to put up with it,” said Akira.</p>
<p>“Do I get <em>any</em> say in this?” Akechi seethed in the corner.</p>
<p>“If you <em>don’t</em> want to be a part of this I don’t think any of us would have any objections,” said Morgana, stretching insolently. “Please, leave if you want.”</p>
<p>Akechi folded his arms and scowled at Morgana, but did not move from the corner. </p>
<p>“Alright,” said Makoto, cautiously, “I suppose if Futaba and Akira agree then we don’t have any objections.”</p>
<p>“<em>I</em> have an objection,” Ryuji insisted. “And what about Haru? He killed her dad too!”</p>
<p>Ann aimed a decent kick at Ryuji’s shins but missed by a wide margin as he hopped out of the way.</p>
<p>“Oh, don’t mind me,” said Haru, her eyes widening. “I can’t say I’m...happy about any of this, but I have no objection to Akechi-kun re-joining the team.” Her eyes hardened quite suddenly as she turned her gaze on him. “Assuming no harm will come to Akira on our mission, that is.” </p>
<p>“I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again,” said Akechi, grumpily, “I no longer have any interest in killing him. Taking out Shido’s been my goal from the start, and if you can...” He seemed to be struggling to muster the words. “If you can...<em>help,</em> then I can’t really refuse you.”</p>
<p>“Seems it’s all settled then,” said Haru, with a wide smile. “Are we all agreed?”</p>
<p>Everyone nodded their heads, though Ryuji seemed to do so with deep reluctance. </p>
<p>“Alright,” said Makoto, exhaling deeply. “You secured the route to the Treasure last night, correct?”</p>
<p>“That’s right,” said Akira. “The doors are open now.”</p>
<p>“So I guess that means all we have to do now is send the calling card,” said Futaba. “Though...it’s gonna be difficult sneaking that thing into the hands of a high-profile politician like Shido without anyone noticing it was us.”</p>
<p>“I can do it,” said Akechi, from the corner. </p>
<p>“You would...do that for us?” asked Makoto, raising an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Of course. I want him gone just as much as you do, after all. A word of warning though—the moment he realises he’s being targeted, he’ll likely attempt to collapse his Palace.”</p>
<p>“Collapse his Palace?” asked Futaba, staring at him wide-eyed. “Is that even possible for a normal person?”</p>
<p>“Not for a normal person, no,” said Akechi. “But Shido knows about the Metaverse, and he’s speculated to me several times about ways he might prevent others getting into his Palace. I have no doubt that once he realises the Phantom Thieves are on the verge of stealing his treasure, he’ll try to do anything to stop us. As such, I propose that I leave the card somewhere I know he’ll find it tomorrow, so that the moment he reads it, we’ll be ready and waiting to take the Treasure as it manifests.”</p>
<p>“Can you guarantee Shido will find it tomorrow?” asked Makoto. “If we aren’t in there when the calling card is sent...”</p>
<p>“I can,” said Akechi.</p>
<p>“And what if you’re jut trying to trick us again?” asked Ryuji, narrowing his eyes. “What if this is just another trap he’s setting for us?”</p>
<p>Akechi shrugged. “I suppose you’ll simply have to trust me. Believe me, I know it’s a lot to ask after all that happened, but unless you can think of something else...”</p>
<p>It was risky, given Akechi’s history, but still…</p>
<p>“This is the easiest way,” said Akira, folding his arms. An idea came to him. Yes, that made sense... “And if Akechi betrays us again, he won’t leave the Palace alive, it’s as simple as that.” </p>
<p>Everyone stared at him.</p>
<p>“Dude,” said Ryuji, wide-eyed. “Are you saying we’re gonna kill him?”</p>
<p>“Only if he tries to kill us. Fair’s fair.” </p>
<p>There was a long silence. Even Akechi looked somewhat unsettled. Huh. Perhaps their resentment of Akechi didn’t stretch quite as far as that then. Akira really didn’t understand older people—so they were all up in arms about Akechi possibly killing Akira but wouldn’t retaliate if he tried it again? Didn’t make sense. Stupid teenagers.</p>
<p>“Um... Leaving that...aside for a minute, are we gonna send the card today then?” asked Ann, clearly eager to move on. “I mean, we make it, then give it to Akechi, and go into the Palace tomorrow?” </p>
<p>“If we can agree, then yes,” said Makoto. </p>
<p>“I can place it on his desk tonight so it’s the first thing he sees tomorrow morning,” said Akechi. “That way, barring some horrific traffic accident or the like, we can be reasonably certain he will see it at around eight o’clock tomorrow. Does that sound reasonable to you?”</p>
<p>“It does sound fairly foolproof,” mused Yusuke. </p>
<p>“And that way we might be able to take the Treasure and avoid Shido-san’s Shadow altogether, right?” asked Haru.</p>
<p>Akechi gave a dark chuckle. “I’m not sure we’ll be quite that lucky, but it will certainly give us a much better chance of escaping alive.”</p>
<p>Silence fell over the room again. Akira was guessing that, for all the Phantom Thieves were experienced, it was unlikely any of them had experienced a heist this potentially deadly before. Except his older self, of course. His head ached at that thought. Maybe he really had overdone it the day before…</p>
<p>“So, who’s gonna write the card?” asked Ann.</p>
<p>“I can do it, if you want,” said Akechi.</p>
<p>Futaba frowned, and looked like she was going to say something, but refrained. </p>
<p>“I suppose it’s only right you get to write it,” said Morgana, quietly. “Out of all of us, Shido’s probably affected you the worst, after all.”</p>
<p>Ryuji gave a derisive snort but didn’t say anything. </p>
<p>“My thanks,” said Akechi.</p>
<p>“Tell Yusuke the details and he’ll create the card for us,” said Makoto. “Then he’ll give it to you to deliver.”</p>
<p>“I’ll text you all when I’ve done it,” said Akechi. “Though you should be warned—Shido often doesn’t leave his office until quite late. And you’ll all need to be up early if we’re going to be waiting and ready at eight o’clock.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry,” said Makoto, with a smile. “We’ll be there.”</p>
<p>Akira included, obviously. </p>
<p>But he really did feel…so odd…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Goro: Everyone hates who I truly am inside :(<br/>Child Akira: You are a bitch tho.<br/>Goro: ... :(<br/>Child Akira: Fine! Just don’t come crying to me when everyone continues to hate you!<br/>Goro: :)</p>
<p>Lmao sorry guys this was pretty much: Goro Gets Bullied by a Ten-Year-Old: The Chapter, but hey, at least the team have all agreed to work together now! Akira's retaliatory death threats aside, of course. And now they're finally going to give Shido the ass-kicking he deserves—so the real question is, when's Teenage Akira going to show back up again? And moreover, what the hell's he going to think when he does?</p>
<p>Thanks so much to everyone who's been reading this crazy story so far btw, it's been super fun to write and I'm glad you've been enjoying it as much as me!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. The Final Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He almost couldn’t believe it was happening. He was here. In Shido’s Palace. About to take him out for good.</p>
<p>He’d dreamt of this moment for years, of finally telling Shido the truth, watching that horrible, smug grin slip off his face as he realised how his life was about to be as ruined as his mother’s was the day Shido left her. </p>
<p>...Going into his Palace and destroying him from within had never factored into his calculations, but still—watching him sobbing and collapsing on live TV was almost as good, Goro reckoned. </p>
<p>To think that only yesterday he’d believed all his plans were ruined, that he no longer had any hope of serving Shido the justice he deserved. And to think a bratty little ten year old would be instrumental in finally carrying his plan to fruition.</p>
<p>Speaking of Akira, he was currently glaring at Goro with his usual amount of disdain. They’d decided collectively that he really ought to be kept out of the final battle with Shido, much to his disgust. (“Who took out the Cleaner all by himself, huh? Who unlocked that stupid door for you?”) So at the moment he was attempting to grind them down with sheer force of personality. It wasn’t working out fabulously for him.</p>
<p>“What do you want to fight Shido in person for anyway?” asked Morgana, frowning. “It’s not like you’re missing out.”</p>
<p>Akira scowled at him, his mask doing little to conceal his discontent. “I’m stronger than <em>all</em> of you! I can help...”</p>
<p>He had a point—whatever power he’d managed to unleash against the cognition when they were in the Palace last time was truly terrifying, but it came with a major flaw.</p>
<p>“That may be true, but can you use that power of yours without dangerously exhausting yourself?” asked Goro, meeting his furious gaze.</p>
<p>Akira glanced at the floor, then sighed heavily. “Probably not.”</p>
<p>“Leave this to us, Akira,” said Makoto. “If any of us ends up in trouble then you and Mona are on standby to help heal us, remember?”</p>
<p>“I know,” said Akira, sounding less than pleased.</p>
<p>“Plus you have me!” said Futaba, slinging her arms around his shoulders. “I always stay off the battlefield, but do I let it stop me?”</p>
<p>“<em>You</em> have a spaceship,” grumbled Akira.</p>
<p>“Come on,” said Mona, frowning at them, “the Treasure’s probably gonna manifest pretty soon—everyone get ready.”</p>
<p>They’d assembled inside the Representative’s Chamber—Shido’s Shadow had thus far been mercifully absent—most likely because his Treasure hadn’t manifested properly yet. There was a strange aura in the room though, an undercurrent of menace that ran through the soles of his feet up to the top of his head. Something was going to happen soon, he was sure of it.</p>
<p>“When does he usually get into his office?” asked Haru.</p>
<p>“Eight o’clock.”</p>
<p>Always the same time, every single day. Shido was pedantic that way. If Goro had wanted to kill him in-person he could have just waited in there with a gun until Shido strolled in—he never came late. Never. </p>
<p>“It’s seven fifty-eight,” said Futaba, tapping at her little screen.</p>
<p>Two more minutes. That was all. </p>
<p>The air seemed to stand still as everyone waited, anticipation building unbearably as the seconds trickled by. </p>
<p>One minute left.</p>
<p>The Treasure shimmered in the air before them, it’s shapeless form glittering in the light, slipping in and out of reality. </p>
<p>It could only be a few seconds now. </p>
<p>He could barely even breathe. </p>
<p>Then a sound something like a hundred jet engines soaring overhead simultaneously shattered the air—light bursting from where the uncertain form of the Treasure had been—blinding him. He blinked furiously, trying desperately to see what had happened—was that how it was meant to go?</p>
<p>Eventually, form and colour returned to the room, and when it did...a huge ship’s wheel span in the air in front of them. </p>
<p>“Is that it?” he wondered aloud.</p>
<p>“The Treasure!” howled Morgana, confirming his suspicions.</p>
<p>“How do we get it down?” called Ann.</p>
<p>There had to be a way—it was only a few feet above them. But—</p>
<p>“You won’t be taking that thing anywhere.”</p>
<p>Shido’s voice hissed through his ears like a poisonous viper. He whirled around. And there he was: even in here, a world where there was no hiding the blackness of his soul, Shido somehow managed to find a way to hold his head high. Incredible, considering...</p>
<p>“And you,” he spat, looking directly at Goro. “Thought you could defy me, did you? Didn’t I warn you what happens to people who cross me?”</p>
<p>“That was the plan from the start,” said Goro, unsheathing his sword, pointing it directly at Shido’s face. “And now you’ll get the justice you so rightfully deserve.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t even dare to take me on by yourself, Akechi?” taunted Shido, deliberately trying to get a rise out of him. But Goro had wasted enough time trying to get the Phantom Thieves to keep their noses out of it. Right now only one thing mattered—that Masayoshi Shido was going to burn.</p>
<p>Without another word he wrenched Loki to his side, concentrating all his willpower on one idea. Destroy Shido. </p>
<p>His vision went black. </p>
<hr/>
<p>“What’s he done?” cried Akira, as Akechi’s usually white outfit turned a strange black, and a huge, terrifying-looking Persona loomed over his head. </p>
<p>It wasn’t Robin Hood.</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” muttered Morgana. “But whatever it is, it isn’t good.”</p>
<p>Almost as if he’d heard Morgana’s speculation, Akechi suddenly leapt at Shido with all the unparalleled ferocity of a rabid dog. Shido only narrowly avoided him, stumbling desperately for the podium at the front of the stage, before hammering on what must have been a hidden button.</p>
<p>All at once, the hall began to move and shift around them, the walls seeming to press in. </p>
<p>“Come on!” cried Morgana, extending his hand to Akira. “We need to get up to the top before we get crushed.”</p>
<p>Akira nodded and grabbed him, and together they rushed forward, trying to keep up with the others as they leapt effortlessly up to the top of the rapidly forming platform. The floor kept shifting beneath them, and Morgana tried to keep a hold of Akira as tightly as he could with his small, less than dexterous hands, as they clambered desperately upwards. It was painfully slow going. The platform closed above them, the others already at the top, while he and Akira tried feebly just to keep clinging to the sides.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?” he called to Akira, clinging to the structure by his fingers.</p>
<p>“I can do this!” Akira shouted back, pulling himself upwards with what seemed like pure force of will. </p>
<p>One hand, then the other—Morgana tried his best to help him along but he couldn’t do much, even in this form. But they were moving. </p>
<p>They just had to keep moving.</p>
<p>After what seemed like hours, they reached the top. The fight had already begun in earnest, and fortunately the others seemed to have maintained the upper hand. It seemed that whatever it was Akechi had done to himself, he was still concentrating the majority of his anger on Shido, and therefore ignoring the rest of the group. Which was just as well, since Morgana wasn’t sure even <em>they</em> would be capable of going up against such raw, powerful anger. Well, so long as Akechi calmed down once he defeated Shido...whatever the chances were of that happening. </p>
<p>“I’m going to help,” he told Akira, even as Haru was knocked to her knees. “You stay here—help anyone who needs extra healing!”</p>
<p>And with that, he leapt into the fray. </p>
<p>Things seemed to be going well—in that they were forcing Shido to adapt his tactics, at least. The lion he’d been sitting astride had transformed into some sort of flying creature, soaring above them.</p>
<p>“Magical attacks aren’t working—try to stick to physical!” yelled Makoto, as Lady Ann was knocked back trying to do a fire attack. </p>
<p>Morgana rushed over, willing Zorro to heal her. </p>
<p>“Ugh, thanks Mona,” she muttered, stumbling to her feet.</p>
<p>“Anything for you, Panther,” said Morgana, beaming at her. </p>
<p>The fight continued on in earnest. He zipped around the battlefield, leaping in and healing the others whenever it seemed like they were about to fall. Well. He tried to. One of them was remaining conspicuously out of reach.</p>
<p>“It’s changing again!” called Futaba from above, and she was right—the winged lion was morphing into some strange pyramid—and Akechi was still right in the middle of everything.</p>
<p>He <em>must</em> need healing by now, surely, but since the moment the fight began he hadn’t stopped for breath even once. He didn’t seem to need to. It was as though something inside him had shattered—some kind of pain monitor—or any sense of self-preservation at all, and now he was...almost beast-like in his fury. His new Persona didn’t seem to have any healing abilities either, and he <em>had</em> to be burning through magical energy...</p>
<p>Morgana crept around the edge of the fighting, trying to get a good lock on Akechi as he dodged and weaved around—but he was incredibly fast. Eventually, there was a huge <em>crack</em> as the pyramid shattered to the ground, and Akechi took a step back, reeling in surprise—Morgana leapt in, magic at his fingertips, and deployed his most powerful healing spell, the magical energy draining out of him all at once.</p>
<p>Akechi barely even seemed to notice, still staring at Shido with a wild look in his eyes. </p>
<p>“Damn them,” hissed Shido, glowering at his perception of the people of Japan. “The ignorant masses can’t do anything for me anymore.” </p>
<p>“Oh, so the moment they aren’t useful to you, they’re nothing?” called out Ryuji, from the other side of the platform.</p>
<p>“Meddling brats,” spat Shido, lurching to his feet. “You’ll pay for messing with your betters—just you watch!”</p>
<p>And with that, he flung off the strange outfit he’d been wearing, exposing a horrible-looking stretching contraption that appeared to encompass his entire torso. It was deeply creepy—and everyone else seemed to think so too—everyone but...Akechi. There was a downright murderous intent in his eyes now, and Morgana suddenly felt a stab of doubt about healing him—what if he really did kill Shido? Then...</p>
<p>But with a flash of red dancing in his hands, Akechi leapt back into the fight, giving Morgana no more time to think. There was only one thing he could do now—try to keep everyone alive to the best of his abilities. And going by the raw ferocity in both Shido and Akechi’s faces...he was going to have a tough time of it.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“You’re finished!” screamed Goro, slamming Shido to the ground with all his strength, as the last of the fight faded out of the wretched man’s eyes. </p>
<p>Was it...over? </p>
<p>Shido was on the ground, trembling on his knees, and Goro...Goro could feel the strength fading from his own limbs too. It was always like this after using the Call of Chaos on himself—where once there had been incredible power, now there was only soreness and pain. But he couldn’t collapse yet. He had to see this through. </p>
<p>“It’s over for you,” he spat at Shido’s Shadow, his head bent down in contrition. “You’ll never be Prime Minister—all you’ve worked for will be dust—and it’s all thanks to me!”</p>
<p>“I was...foolish,” muttered Shido. And God, it was so strange to hear that regretful tone of voice from him. “Trying to climb my way to the top through violence... Why did I ever think it would work?”</p>
<p>“Because you were arrogant and stupid,” hissed Goro. </p>
<p>“It’s true. And you...” he peered up at Goro, a strange, almost unseeing expression on his face. “You were the key to my success, even if I never acknowledged it. Without you I would never have known to utilise Wakaba Isshiki’s research, nor would I have risen to power nearly so quickly.” He gave a sharp, bitter laugh. “What I did was abominable, and yet, I suppose you have some part in it too.”</p>
<p>“Don’t you <em>dare</em> blame this on me!” Goro seethed, almost choking on the anger coursing through him. “You used me! Just like you used everyone else!”</p>
<p>Shido laughed—but not his usual sneer—a full-throated, deep, almost maniacal laugh. One that sounded...oddly familiar. “Oh yes,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes as he finished. “I used you. But you were so eager to do it, Akechi—how could I not use such a willing tool?” </p>
<p>It wasn’t true—he <em>wasn’t</em> a tool! All this time he’d planned Shido’s downfall—always, always it had been at the back of his mind—festering, growing in strength and power until this day. He was the reason for Shido’s failure, not his success! But... </p>
<p>
  <em>"Bullshit! You helped him build his network—helped all of them get into the positions they’re in now. If you really want to make up for what you’ve done then you’d destroy them too."</em>
</p>
<p>Wasn’t he at least partially responsible? Didn’t he help all this, somehow...</p>
<p>“Akechi.” Makoto’s voice from behind him. “We need to take the Treasure soon. This place won’t hold up forever.”</p>
<p>She was right—if they failed to take the Treasure, it would all be for nothing. </p>
<p>“I understand,” he said, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the broken form of Masayoshi Shido. Pain went lancing through him almost the moment he did. </p>
<p>“Here,” said Morgana, casting a neat healing spell on him, easing the aches just a little. </p>
<p>“Thanks,” he muttered, though he resented still having to rely on him.</p>
<p>“Here, got the Treasure,” said Futaba, holding up a tiny little pin. How odd how much it had changed. But...something was wrong. </p>
<p>“What is it, Akechi?” asked Ann, peering at him. </p>
<p>He mentally counted them again. Seven. <em>Only</em> seven. </p>
<p>“Where’s Akira?” </p>
<hr/>
<p>Akira was sick of this. Sick of the future, of death, of different dimensions, and of stupid plots to kill him. Sick of his so-called friends and <em>sick</em> of the demon that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his subconscious. </p>
<p>Which was why he was kind of surprised when, after being unceremoniously dragged back into the Velvet Room, the thing calling itself Igor had mysteriously vanished again. An alarm blared overhead. And two sets of eerie yellow eyes stared right back into his. </p>
<p>“Inmate!” yelled Caroline, quickly breaking the awkward silence. “What have you been doing?”</p>
<p>“Business,” said Akira, coldly. “Where’s your creepy boss?”</p>
<p>“How dare you!” </p>
<p>“Now, now, Caroline,” said Justine, waving her hands in a calming manner. “We should explain what happened.”</p>
<p>Caroline huffed, then stamped her foot and stood up straight. “Our master has vanished, and it’s all your fault!” </p>
<p>“How do you reckon that?” asked Akira.</p>
<p>“Well he just said ‘the Tricker’s form is shifting, so it will be best if I depart until he has settled again’ and then took off!” </p>
<p>Shifting? Then did that mean...?</p>
<p>“What are you thinking?” asked Justine, staring directly at him. </p>
<p>His older self...soon Akira would cease to exist, erased from this world once more. Could it really be true? But then... </p>
<p>He needed to leave. Now. </p>
<p>He leapt up from his bed and went right up to the prison bars. “Can you let me out? You’re the wardens, right? Surely you have the keys.”</p>
<p>“Well, that’s...” spluttered Caroline. </p>
<p>“Where is it you intend to go?” asked Justine. </p>
<p>“I need to get into the depths of Mementos again. It’s important.”</p>
<p>“Hah! Sounds like a lousy excuse if you ask me!” crowed Caroline. </p>
<p>“And why is it so important?” asked Justine. </p>
<p>“There’s something there he needs to see,” said Akira, without hesitation.</p>
<p>“He?” mumbled Caroline.</p>
<p>“You refer to your older self, do you not?” asked Justine. “Hmm, your judgement in this manner could prove to be correct. And it is certainly true it isn’t exactly <em>you</em> we’re meant to have locked up in here.”</p>
<p>Justine seemed far more inclined than her sister to give him a chance. It seemed to him she might have a bit more of an inkling as to her supposed ‘master’s’ true nature—had he had more time he’d have asked her, but as things were…</p>
<p>“B-but, but Justine!” cried Caroline. </p>
<p>“I think, in this instance, it would be wise to listen to what the Inmate says,” said Justine, turning to her sister. “Our master is not here to guide us, after all.”</p>
<p>Caroline folded her arms and snorted, but her eyes kept flicking back and forth between him and her sister. </p>
<p>“Fine!” she yelled, throwing her arms down at her sides. “But if he gets mad at us when he comes back, then it’s all your fault!”</p>
<p>Justine chuckled. “Perhaps. Now, let us release him.”</p>
<p>She drew a key from up her sleeve, and fitted it neatly into the lock just above their heads, turning it with a sharp <em>click. </em></p>
<p>“There you are,” she said, as the door swung open.</p>
<p>Akira quickly hurried out. He had no desire to get trapped in there again. </p>
<p>Almost as soon as he stepped out of his cell, he felt the mask manifesting on his face again, his prison rags vanishing, replaced by his usual clothes. His bag felt heavy at his side. The diary was still there. Good. He’d need it. </p>
<p>“I’ve never been out of this room before,” mumbled Caroline, so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.</p>
<p>“Where were you when there was no one here?” asked Akira. “I came in several times.”</p>
<p>Both the twins looked uncomfortable at that question. </p>
<p>“We do not know,” said Justine. “It was...strange. As though we were both here and not.”</p>
<p>“And it’s all your fault. So don’t act like it’s no big deal,” huffed Caroline.</p>
<p>“There’s a door out there,” said Akira, pointing at the empty cell across from his. </p>
<p>Both the twins stared at it in shock. </p>
<p>“That’s...” began Justine. </p>
<p>“That’s never been there before!” cried Caroline. </p>
<p>“What are you talking about, of course it’s been there,” grumbled Akira. “It’s been there every time I’ve come here.”</p>
<p>“But that isn’t right!” Caroline insisted. “This is supposed to be a prison! There’s no way out... No way...”</p>
<p>She fell silent, a deep frown creasing her brow. Justine looked equally disturbed, and they exchanged a meaningful glance that Akira couldn’t read at all. </p>
<p>“We will accompany you out of here,” Justine eventually said aloud. “I trust this is agreeable to you?”</p>
<p>“It’s dangerous out there,” said Akira.</p>
<p>Caroline smirked. “Oh, don’t worry about us, Inmate, our powers vastly exceed yours.”</p>
<p>“Yes, you are quite puny in comparison to us,” Justine agreed. “If there’s anything out there that should try to cause you harm, have no fear, it shall be dealt with.”</p>
<p>Akira settled on not arguing with them over the matter, since it seemed their minds were already fully made up. </p>
<p>“Alright then,” he said. “Let’s go.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Getting out of the Velvet Room proved easier than he’d feared. The door once again seemed to recognise him as not being the prisoner it was intended to lock up, and once it was open they were back in the grim depths of Mementos once again. </p>
<p>“What is this place?” mumbled Justine as she stepped out. “How is it we’ve never seen this before? Could it have been concealed from us?”</p>
<p>“Don’t talk nonsense,” grumbled Caroline, but there wasn’t much bite to it.</p>
<p>Akira looked at the bones and the gore that made up the walls, trying to trace the direction the veins were going in, trying to sense where to go next.</p>
<p><em>Down,</em> said Arsène, without hesitation.</p>
<p>Down? He turned to his left, and saw a path leading down to a massive complex—where all the veins seemed to converge. Down. He was almost there. Almost.</p>
<p>“We need to get down to that place,” said Akira, pointing at the colossal structure. “It’s inside.”</p>
<p>“What’s inside?” asked Caroline, but he didn’t answer.</p>
<p>That was the whole point, after all. </p>
<p>He hurried onward, down the strange, bony path, ignoring the uneven ground as he picked his way downward, descending further and further into the depths. Caroline and Justine hurried behind him, and all together they stumbled and scurried all the way down to the very bottom, somehow managing to avoid all the enemies along the way.</p>
<p>“Pathetic,” muttered Caroline, once they were in front of the entrance. “Why don’t you stand up and fight these things?”</p>
<p>“There’ll only be more of them,” said Akira, with a shrug. “I need to save my energy for this, wouldn’t you agree?” </p>
<p>“That depends what it is you intend on doing,” said Justine. “What is it you believe lurks in these depths?”</p>
<p>Akira wanted to say, ‘that horrible thing you call a master’, but decided against. </p>
<p>“Some sort of God,” he said. “It’s waiting, I know it.”</p>
<p>Justine cast her eyes to the ground for a moment, then gave a heavy sigh. </p>
<p>“What is it?” asked Caroline. </p>
<p>“This place,” said Justine. “The energy here—it feels familiar somehow, wouldn’t you agree?”</p>
<p>“Energy?” muttered Caroline. </p>
<p>“Whatever’s down there,” said Justine, turning to face the compound. “I have a feeling we’ve seen it before.”</p>
<p>Caroline did not respond, instead staring unhappily at the ground. Justine abruptly turned to look at him. </p>
<p>“You won’t be in this world much longer,” she said. “Tell us what you’re going to do, we must know.”</p>
<p>It was true—he was dying—he could sense it. Even on the way down he could feel whatever life-force it was he was clinging to slowly fading and draining away from him, as though the beast knew he was coming. But it wasn’t over yet. This was his final act—his final sacrifice. He had to see. He had to.</p>
<p>“I’m going to go in there,” said Akira. “And when I see that creature, it’ll kill me.”</p>
<p>“What are you talking about?” huffed Caroline. “Don’t be so morbid!”</p>
<p>“No,” said Justine, “he may be right.”</p>
<p>“Don’t you start too!”</p>
<p>“What I mean is, you believe that when you lay eyes on this creature, it will transform you back to your older self, correct?”</p>
<p>Akira nodded. That could be the only answer. </p>
<p>“Is there anything you want us to do?” she asked. “We will have to explain everything to him when he comes out, after all, and I fear we will not have all the answers he seeks.”</p>
<p>“Give him this,” said Akira, withdrawing the diary from his bag, and holding it out to her.</p>
<p>His last remnant of humanity. It felt so heavy in his hands.</p>
<p>Justine frowned. “I can sense this is important to you. Are you sure you want us to take custody of it?”</p>
<p>He couldn’t risk it disappearing along with his bag when he changed back. </p>
<p>“Make sure he gets it,” he said, pressing it into her hands. “It will explain everything.”</p>
<p>Justine took it from him carefully, placing it atop her clipboard and nodding seriously. “We’ll guard it with our lives.”</p>
<p>Akira glanced back at the compound. His life-force was fading. </p>
<p>“H-hey,” said Caroline. “Is this really it? You’re just gonna...”</p>
<p>“I’m not going to fight whatever’s down there,” said Akira. “I just need to make sure he sees it.”</p>
<p>Silence, again.</p>
<p>“It’s very brave, what you’re doing,” said Justine. “And I’m sure this will benefit him too.”</p>
<p>Well, all things considered, hopefully it would save his life. Sort of, anyway.</p>
<p>“I have to go in,” he said, deliberately avoiding looking at his hands, which he was acutely aware were beginning to fade away. “I don’t have much time left.”</p>
<p>Justine nodded, and Caroline kept frowning.</p>
<p>“I know we didn’t know you long, but for what it’s worth, it was nice to meet you,” said Justine.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” said Caroline. “You’re as much of a pain in the ass as the older you, but... I guess it was nice to talk to you or whatever.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” said Akira, with a smile. “It was nice meeting you too.”</p>
<p>“Hurry on now,” said Justine, her eyes glimmering in the red light. “We’ll keep your treasure safe. Now go and do what you must.”</p>
<p>Akira nodded, then turned on his heel, facing the prison complex once more. Red windows stared down at him. Not long now. </p>
<p>But as he stepped forward, making his way into the last place he’d ever see, he felt oddly at peace. </p>
<p>After all, this was his destiny, wasn’t it?</p>
<p>And as he emerged into the central chamber, and looked down at the creature far below, he wasn’t afraid. </p>
<p>Because he’d saved him. </p>
<p>And that was all he’d ever wanted.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akira didn’t know where he was. </p><p>One moment he was fighting Shadows in Sae’s Casino, the next he was here. Wherever ‘here’ was. </p><p>But though he didn’t know where he was, he <em>did</em> know what he was looking at. </p><p>Its aura was unmistakable even from here. </p><p>
  <em>Apathy.</em>
</p><p>“Thank God you’re back,” muttered a familiar voice in his ear.</p><p>Akira glanced up at his Persona, now looming over him protectively as he stared at the beast below. </p><p>“Long time no see,” he said, grinning at Arsène, who he was fairly certain was glaring at him. </p><p>“So you’ve finally worked out what’s down here, have you? Took you long enough. Even a ten-year-old could have done it quicker than you,” he grumbled. </p><p>Whatever had happened while Akira was unconscious it had clearly pissed him off—which was unusual because Arsène really wasn’t the type to <em>get</em> pissed off. He glanced back at the creature in the depths. It felt a little like taking psychic damage straight to the face. </p><p>“We’re in Mementos, aren’t we?” asked Akira, glancing around at the unnerving scenery. </p><p>“The Palace of the collective unconscious, yes,” said Arsène. </p><p>“Which would make this...” The Treasure. </p><p>Hah. He knew he’d been right about Igor’s bullshit. </p><p>“Don’t sound so damned smug. You wouldn’t have managed any of this on your own.”</p><p>“Stop reading my thoughts then,” Akira sniped back. “And I don’t see anyone else down here helping me, so can it.”</p><p>“Go outside, and you will discover just how incorrect you are,” said Arsène, before unhelpfully fading out. </p><p>Well, that was that, then. </p><p>Akira rose cautiously from the hiding place he’d appeared in, hoping not to attract the attention of the beast lurking in the depths. He had to fight it someday, that was for sure, but today was certainly not that day. </p><p>As he emerged from the complex, two familiar voices hit his ears. </p><p>“Inmate!” cried Caroline’s sharp, high-pitched voice. “Finally decided to come back, have you?”</p><p>“I’m exactly sure what’s going on, but sure. Let’s go with that.”</p><p>“Stop being so insolent!” she cried, trying to hit him in the knees with her baton.</p><p>“Calm down, Caroline,” said Justine, bemusedly. “I believe you will find the answers to all your queries within this.”</p><p>She held out a small, black book. Wait. Was that...?</p><p>“Is this my journal?” he asked, carefully taking it from her.</p><p>“I don’t know,” said Justine. “I merely know it holds the answers you seek.”</p><p>That seemed...unlikely, but Akira quickly flicked through the journal to see if anything had changed. And when he got to the last page, he saw it clearly had. Someone else had written in here, but...he felt like he recognised the handwriting. He looked closely at the new passage.</p><p>
  <em>Dear Akira,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It occurs to me you’ve been gone for some time now, and will want to know what’s been happening in your absence. Well, what’s been happening is me. I’m you—well, sort of, anyway. After all, I’m ten and you’re seventeen, so I imagine we’re actually quite different as people.</em>
</p><p>Akira closed the journal for a second and chuckled disbelievingly. So, when he’d been hit by that creature...he’d been changed into a child. No wonder he didn’t remember anything. The others must have been so surprised...</p><p>“Is there something funny in there?” Caroline demanded. </p><p>“No,” said Akira, opening it again. “I haven’t finished reading.”</p><p>“Well, get on with it then!” </p><p>
  <em>It’s Tuesday the 8th November. I know all about your plan, but your friends are very unhelpfully trying to keep me from joining them. Well too bad. I’ll convince them. Oh, and there are a few other things you should know: the man commanding Akechi is a politician called Masayoshi Shido—I’ve already found his Palace. </em>
</p><p>Shido? He recognised that name. But from where... Never mind, he’d look it up once he was out of Mementos.</p><p>
  <em>Also, there’s something in the bottom of Mementos. I’m not entirely sure what it is yet, but you should definitely investigate it when you come back. Don’t worry about anything, I’m going to help you out, I swear it. I won’t let you die. I promise. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope you’re alright out there, Akira. I think you’re probably a better person than me, and all your friends miss you a lot. </em>
</p><p>Akira frowned. Sure, that was fine, he’d expect them to be confused with him vanishing at such a crucial moment, but he could read in-between the lines here. His younger self felt that his friends didn’t like him. Hmm. Hopefully reading more would let him understand why. </p><p>
  <em>It’s strange, you know. I wish I could talk to you, but...there’s no way for me to do that, other than by writing in here. And if you came back then I’d disappear. I’m practically not even real. Crazy thought, but true. I don’t want to die, but...I don’t want you to be gone forever, either. This is your life I’m taking over, after all. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anyway, ignore all that depressing stuff I just wrote: you’re going to be totally okay, and I’m going to save you from Akechi and Shido, so don’t worry about a thing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yours,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Akira</em>
</p><p>Akira couldn’t stop the smile from playing about his lips, though it was a bittersweet one. The kid who’d replaced him really had it rough, arriving at such a difficult time. And the fact he was smart enough to comprehend everything that was going on probably made things even harder on him. Save him... So he’d always been like this, huh?</p><p><em>That child was fixated on you,</em> said Arsène, quietly. <em>Quite beside himself to save you. Funny, I think that might be the only time you’ve ever cared about your own life. </em></p><p><em>Shut it,</em> Akira shot back, but he knew full-well Arsène was right. </p><p>
  <em>Dear Akira,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m really sorry, I think your friends probably hate me more than ever. I persuaded them to let me help, but I know they’re not happy about me being here. And I yelled at Futaba. It was stupid, and it’s all my fault. She accepted my apology, but she probably won’t forget what I did. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We’re supposed to go into Shido’s Palace today—and we’re distracting Akechi by making him think we’re still doing the casino instead. I hope the others can tolerate me. I know I’m difficult to handle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>How is it you can do all this, Akira? You have so many friends, but I’ve never had any. Is it just because you’re older? Better? No one’s ever wanted to put up with me, so I suppose I just wonder why...what’s so different between the two of us? It feels like there’s nothing I can do <span class="u">right</span> here—I try to stay out of the way, they hate me—I try to help, they hate me. I preferred it back when no one cared, you know? It’s easier to be yourself when no one cares about you. You don’t have to please anyone, you don’t have to be afraid of making them dislike you... People are so terrible, aren’t they? But I’m doing all of this for you, so I suppose I should just suck it up. </em>
</p><p>“Uh, Inmate? Are you okay?” came Caroline’s voice from beside him.</p><p>He blinked a few times, suddenly realising that the coldness on his cheeks was from the tears that had been trickling down his face. He automatically went to wipe them away. </p><p>“It’s fine,” he said, though his voice was obviously shaky. “Everything’s fine.”</p><p>“Well, if you say so,” she said, uncertainly. </p><p>God, here it was almost easy to forget everything that came before—he barely went a day without someone or other texting him to asking him to hang out. So much so he could almost forget how...alone he’d been before. Granted, it had been worse when he was ten, when there seemed to be no escape in sight and almost every day was about survival in the face of his absentee parents. By the time he’d been shipped off to Tokyo he’d at least had an escape route planned in the form of university. But he really had forgotten just how...lonely it was. </p><p>Hah. He was so lucky. </p><p>
  <em>I’m sorry this is probably so bad to read. I promise my next letter will be better. And I’m definitely getting rid of Shido (and maybe Akechi?) for you so you’ll be happy to hear about that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>All the best, </em>
  <br/>
  <em>Akira</em>
</p><p>He’d been so...determined, even as a child. Not that he wasn’t as determined now, but...he was proud, regardless of how down on himself the kid seemed. And it really was a shame that, though he’d been able to write to Akira, Akira couldn’t write back to him. </p><p>
  <em>Dear Akira,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I finally convinced your <span class="u">stupid</span> friend Akechi not to kill you.</em>
</p><p>Akira couldn’t help but chuckle at the vehemence with which his younger self had underlined the word stupid. It seemed that he was in for quite the story. </p><p>
  <em>Also, I think we might have been possessed by a demon. There’s a weird man in my dreams, and I’m pretty sure he’s the ‘Igor’ you wrote about earlier. I think you are right not to trust him, and he definitely acts like he’s completely evil, so really, why would you? Anyway you should definitely watch out for him when you come back. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We infiltrated Shido’s Palace, and I think I did a good job, so your friends hate me less now. But that’s not important—what is important is that we only had one letter left to get, and I wanted to get it over with and also couldn’t sleep, so I went to get it myself. Unfortunately, when I was doing this, I ran into your stupid friend, Akechi.</em>
</p><p>Oh dear. Well, it seemed that his younger self had come out of the encounter intact, given he’d been able to write this letter, but the fact that Akechi’s name was now being preceded almost exclusively with the word ‘stupid’ meant that he definitely hadn’t made a good impression on Akira’s younger self. Which he supposed was fair, since Akechi had hardly made a decent first impression on him either. </p><p>
  <em>He very pathetically threatened to kill me, but it seemed to me he was too cowardly to do it, and he was. So I got the final letter, and managed to persuade him to help me fight Shido. An important note: Akechi really hates Shido. Even more than he hates you and me, I think. I don’t know why, and I don’t think I want to, but you might, so when you come back you should probably ask him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Also he told me you can die in the Metaverse??? It sounds silly to me, but you should probably check that out. How can you die when you can just magic yourself better? But that’s not really important. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When we got home I was exhausted, so I fell asleep, but Akechi (who is very stupid) managed to insult everyone while I was unconscious, so today I had to re-persuade everyone to get along. I think I’m getting the hang of this whole leadership thing you’re doing Akira! I mean, you’d probably do it better, but they seemed to agree at the end, so I must have done something right. I feel strange though, as though I’m not quite here. I don’t think it’s just the Palaces.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tomorrow, we’re going to deal with Shido for good. You’ll be alright then, I think. Both Akechi and Shido will be dealt with, so you’ll be able to live in peace. But...this Igor. There’s something wrong with him, I just know it! </em>
</p><p>
  <em>...I’m really tired, Akira. You must be really strong to be able to deal with stuff like this all day. I keep hoping you’ll be back soon, but...isn’t that kind of hoping for my death too? I don’t want to die... </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But—it’s you that belongs here, not me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ll write again soon.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yours, </em>
  <br/>
  <em>Akira</em>
</p><p>There was just one letter left. Akira almost didn’t want to read it, didn't want to read the last thing the ghost of his younger self had written, in all his determined stubbornness. But still, it would dishonour him to ignore it, wouldn’t it?</p><p>
  <em>Dear Akira,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Today’s the day. I think I’m going to die soon. My sense of self is...strange. I don’t feel right at all, and my voice doesn’t sound like my own anymore. But don’t worry, I think they’ll deal with Shido before you get back. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akira, I want you to know that your friends really care about you—I mean, they even managed to put up with me, so they must do. And I want you to know that...I’ll miss being here. It was definitely interesting living your life for a while. Sure, it’s super hard, and I think I still kind of prefer Itoiyama, where everything’s pretty much normal, but...you’ve done a really good job here, I think. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And now you won’t have to leave it all behind. You’ll live, I swear it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everyone’s preparing now—they’re so intense—maybe even worried? Hey Akira, I bet you usually do all this stuff for them, don’t you? Your friends are so lazy! Honestly, you should get them to help out sometimes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Seriously though, keep them around. They’re decent people. I think. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Akira...I really wish you were here right now. I want to talk to you about all this—how you managed to get this life, but...we can’t, can we? All I can do is write you these letters. I think this might be my last one. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hey, I’ve done so much for you, so can you at least promise me something? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don’t take any of this stuff for granted. It was such a shock me when I came here and realised all you had: friends, even family, kind of. I couldn’t handle it back then. I probably still can’t really handle it now. But it’s really precious, what you’ve got, so don’t just go throwing it away without a care in the world, alright? Take care of everyone here for me, won’t you? Especially Morgana. I think he’ll be lonely without you around.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anyway, I’ve been rambling on for ages, and everyone wants me to help out now so I’ve got to stop here. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But it was nice talking to you—if that’s what this is, anyway. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Come back soon, Akira. Everyone’s waiting for you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yours,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Akira</em>
</p><p>Akira inhaled deeply, trying to stop the tears rushing to his eyes this time. But it was hard work. Lingering on the past was not a habit he was particularly prone to, most of the time—after all, there really wasn’t that much to linger <em>on,</em> but... The world was a very different place when he was ten years old. Harder. Colder. No friends, no family, no nothing. It became easier as he got older, as people stopped noticing, as others understood his position—but the initial pain never truly faded away. </p><p>To have come here of all places, at ten...to have met all these people—had them acknowledge him as their friend, as someone actually worthwhile... It sounded like he’d reacted quite badly at first. Probably understandable, given the circumstances. And the others had clearly had friction with him—he’d never taken well to be treated like a child, even when he’d actually been one. </p><p>But he’d been so brave. Taking on Akechi, even an important politician—all just to try and save his life. Ha. Arsène might be right about his warped sense of self-preservation after all. </p><p>And now he was gone. Forever.</p><p>He closed the book, sliding it into his bag, making a mental note to write something back in the off-chance it would somehow reach his younger self. He deserved to know how much Akira appreciated what he’d done, after all. But for now...</p><p>“Are you finally finished getting all upset over nothing?” asked Caroline.</p><p>“Yep,” said Akira, flashing a grin at her. He took a brief look around. It seemed that at the very bottom, Mementos turned into some sort of vast, unpleasant looking cave system, with bones and gore everywhere. Gross.</p><p>“How did you two get down here?” he asked, peering at the Twins.</p><p>“Through the door, obviously,” said Caroline. </p><p>“Now, now, the Inmate does not remember any of that,” said Justine. “Come with us, Inmate, and we will show you.”</p><p>Sounded like he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter...why did it always end up like this for him, huh? </p><p>“Lead the way.”</p><hr/><p>When Caroline had said they came through the door to Mementos, he’d assumed that she was talking about the one at the top of Mementos. </p><p>It very quickly became apparent that this was not so. </p><p>“This looks...pretty intense,” said Akira, staring up at the reinforced metal door that apparently led back to the Velvet Room. </p><p>“This <em>is</em> a prison,” said Caroline, stiffly. </p><p>“You should be able to open it with relative ease,” said Justine, smoothly. “After all, you were much smaller when you opened it the first time.”</p><p>She had a point.</p><p>“Alright,” he said, bracing his shoulder against the door. “Here goes nothing.”</p><p>With a sharp shove, the door shifted, and step by strenuous step he managed to force the door open fully.</p><p>“Ugh,” he muttered, stumbling through to the other side.</p><p>But this...was not the Velvet Room. Not the one he remembered, anyway. He was at the top of a very long set of stairs, looking down...</p><p>“It’s at the bottom,” said Justine, answering his unasked question.</p><p>“Right,” said Akira.</p><p>Then began his careful descent. </p><p>It was cold in the prison, and Akira half-expected his usual prison clothes to reappear at any moment, but they did not. Of course—he’d need to re-enter his cell to return to the real world and catch up with his friends but...part of him wondered what on earth he was doing, letting the twins guide him back into entrapment once again. </p><p>Once he reached the foot of the stairs, he realised the path didn’t lead straight on to the Velvet Room. There were corridors diverging off at both ends. And if there were corridors...then surely there must be something down them?</p><p>“Hey, Inmate! Where are you going?”</p><p>“I just need to check something!” Akira called back.</p><p>There had to be something important in here, right? Something Igor was keeping from him...</p><p>It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for. But the moment he caught sight of it, he found himself almost wishing he hadn’t. </p><p>“Futaba?” he muttered, drawing closer to the cell.</p><p>It was definitely her alright—bright orange hair—headphones looped around her neck. But her head was tilted back against the wall of the cell, and her aspect as one who was deeply asleep. </p><p>“Hey, can you hear me?” he asked, a little louder, hoping it would wake her up. </p><p>No response.</p><p>“Inmate!” yelled Caroline, catching up to him. “Don’t just wander off like that!”</p><p>Well, if that didn’t wake Futaba, nothing would. But why was she here? Were the others here too? </p><p>“Yes, I admit we both found it quite alarming,” said Justine following quickly behind. “Now follow us to your cell in an orderly fashion. We don’t want to have to force you, you know.” </p><p>“Sure,” said Akira.</p><p>He’d seen all he’d needed to see. The others probably weren’t aware they were here—one of them would have surely mentioned seeing the Velvet Room by now, after all—but it seemed he wasn’t the only one Igor was keeping trapped. Well. That wouldn’t stand for much longer. Not if he was right about his theory...</p><p>“Come on,” Caroline barked at him. “We’re almost there.” </p><p>And it was true—the door leading into the grand circular room was just in front of them, and within...</p><p>“Gone on a little excursion, have we?” asked Igor, turning around menacingly to face all of them. “My, my. This won’t do at all.”</p><p>“M-master!” stuttered Caroline. “The prisoner escaped—we had to go and find him and bring him back—it was all on your orders I swear it!”</p><p>“No,” said Igor, more eerily calm than ever in the face of Caroline’s pleading. “That is not true. Really, Caroline, you should know better than to lie to me.”</p><p>Caroline’s eye’s widened, and even the usually calm Justine looked worried. As well they should. He got the feeling Igor was at last about to reveal his true colours. </p><p>“Now, what should be the punishment for servants who refuse to obey orders?” asked Igor, his voice echoing ominously around the room. “Or for prisoners who escape their cells?”</p><p>“Death?” suggested Akira, preempting the inevitable.</p><p>Igor laughed, and a strange fire seemed to alight in his eyes. “What an excellent answer! Maybe I trained you better than I thought.”</p><p>“No, you can’t do this!” Caroline insisted. “It was different—he was only a kid when we let him out—he wasn’t doing rehabilitation or anything!”</p><p>“Incorrect,” said Igor, a dark aura seeming to pulse around him now. “By interfering in the ultimate fate of Masayoshi Shido and Goro Akechi, he ruined any chance he might have had at rehabilitation. You have failed, boy. And now, you must pay the price for that failure.”</p><p>The eerie glow in Igor’s eyes intensified, and his voice seemed to grow unnaturally loud.</p><p>“Now, you two, obey your master and execute this criminal!”</p><p>Caroline and Justine exchanged glances.</p><p>“This can’t be right,” said Caroline, shaking her head. </p><p>“I agree,” said Justine, scowling. “This <em>isn’t</em> right. We aren’t meant to—”</p><p>Justine’s eyes suddenly flew wide open and she let out a yowl of pain, clutching at her head.</p><p>“Justine?” cried Caroline, clearly panicked. </p><p>“No, no, this is...” muttered Justine, screwing up her eyes and clutching at her ears. “But how can that be...”</p><p>“Tell me what’s going on!” Caroline demanded. </p><p>Justine stared at her, wide eyes suddenly filled with steady focus. “We aren’t executioners, Caroline. Think about it. Remember...”</p><p>“Remember...?” </p><p>Caroline gasped. “Our eyes!”</p><p>“Yes,” said Justine quietly. “That’s all the proof we need.”</p><p>“What are you girls playing at?” demanded the creature looming over them. “Are you disobeying direct orders from your master?”</p><p>“You aren’t our master!” cried Caroline, pointing her baton directly at Igor’s face. “You’re the thing that destroyed us in the first place!”</p><p>Destroyed? But then, did that mean...?</p><p>“Inmate,” said Justine, turning to him calmly. “May we ask you a favour?”</p><p>“Go ahead,” said Akira. He honestly had no idea what was happening, but he was pretty sure the twins were on his side, so it was probably safe to trust them and whatever requests they might have.</p><p>“We need you to fuse us.”</p><p>...Or perhaps not.</p><p>“What?” </p><p>“We need you to fuse us,” said Justine. “Where once we were one, we are now two—torn apart by that traitorous creature’s meddling. We must regain our true form if we are to face him, do you understand?”</p><p>“I do,” said Akira. “So you want me to use the Guillotine?”</p><p>“As quickly as possible. I don’t think he has yet fully realised we are no longer under his control.”</p><p>Caroline’s ranting at him was rising in pitch, however, which meant they probably didn’t have much time left. Damn it. Justine quickly readjusted the blades, and thrust the strings into his hand. </p><p>“Just pull on these, that’s all you have to do.”</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>“Caroline!” she called out to her twin. “Quickly!”</p><p>Caroline turned around, saw the guillotine assembled and immediately realised what she had to do. She sprinted towards them, skidding around and thrusting her head into the hole—Justine was already lying there, prepared. </p><p>“Inmate! Do it!” yelled Caroline. </p><p>Part of him rebelled against executing the twins—it felt oddly personal doing it himself, and if he lost them then he surely lost any chance of beating Igor, but equally...what choice did he have now? </p><p>He pulled the strings.</p><p>The blades dropped in unnerving unison, a metallic screech hitting the air as the blades caught on the guillotine’s sides. Not enough to stop the deadly conclusion though. In a second, both Caroline and Justine turned into brilliant blue light, and the light flooded together, so bright and so brilliant that for a moment Akira couldn’t see a thing. </p><p>Then <em>she</em> emerged. </p><p>The fusion of Justine and Caroline. Whole again at last.</p><p>“I am Lavenza,” she announced. “And you,” she said, turning to the creature looming in the centre of the room, “are uninvited.”</p><p>And with a snap of her fingers, the strange, flickering form of Igor vanished entirely, and something new replaced him at the desk. Wait...was that?</p><p>“Master!” cried Lavenza, rushing over to him, apparently undeterred by the absolute insanity of what was going on. “Are you alright?”</p><p>A being that looked <em>just like</em> the creature that had just left sat up from the desk, and gave a wan smile.  </p><p>“Ah, I am fine, Lavenza,” he said, in a <em>much</em> higher-pitched voice than the menace that had just left. “And you,” he said, looking directly at Akira, “you must be our new wildcard. Apologies for all the disturbance.”</p><p>“What...” Akira began, then realised he had no idea how to finish that sentence. So much had just happened... “What’s...going on, exactly?”</p><p>Igor...was this thing still Igor? Perhaps it didn’t matter. Igor chuckled, though it was strained. “I am afraid there has been a great deal of deception going on. Lavenza, would you care to fill him in?”</p><p>Lavenza nodded, then turned to face him. “This is my true master. The being I just banished was a malevolent influence that contaminated the Velvet Room. It is he that you have been speaking to until now.” </p><p>“So you‘re...” said Akira, squinting at the old man.</p><p>“<em>I</em> am Igor,” he said. “The creature you’ve been conversing with goes by another, far more sinister name. I would tell it to you, but I would rather not call his attention here again so soon.” </p><p>“Nice...to meet you,” said Akira. He was sure his head was spinning slightly. </p><p>First he found out he’d lost about a week thanks to being unceremoniously de-aged, then that Akechi and the man who’d ordered his death had been neutralised, and now the entirety of the Velvet Room had been upended, the usurper banished and Caroline and Justine fused into a new being entirely. That was a lot, even for him. </p><p>“Would you like to sit down?” asked Igor, with a smile.</p><p>“I’m good,” said Akira, though he wasn’t. “I...wait, where are the others? Where was I before I came here?”</p><p>His younger self had spoken of destroying Shido—was that all over and done with, or...?</p><p>“You <em>were</em> in a Palace,” said Lavenza. “However, I believe it has been destroyed by now.”</p><p>That didn’t sound good. “Do they know where I am?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>That really wasn’t good. </p><p>“Okay, listen, I’d be happy to talk more and find out exactly what’s going on, but I need to find the others first, or they’re going to freak out on me.”</p><p>“It is likely too late for that,” said Lavenza, in an entirely unreassuring manner, “but if you must go, do. We will contact you tonight. We do not have much time until the Usurper acts.”</p><p>“I understand,” said Akira. “I’ll find them.”</p><p>“The way lies open before you,” she said, pointing back into his cell, where a swirling blue portal had appeared.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said, taking one last glance back at the two of them, before stepping through. </p><hr/><p>He heard the voices coming from the café even before he stepped inside. </p><p>“But he can’t just be gone! He can’t!” cried a voice he was pretty sure was Futaba’s inside. It sounded like his younger self had chosen a very inconvenient moment to duck out of the proceedings. Sounded about right.</p><p>He hurried over to the door and pushed it open, the bell ringing overhead. No point keeping them all in suspense, after all. </p><p>Nine pairs of eyes alighted on him at once. </p><p>“Akira?” whispered Futaba, her voice so small he almost didn’t hear her. </p><p>“Did you miss me?” he asked, flashing them all a grin. </p><p>“You stupid idiot!” cried Morgana, launching himself at Akira’s chest so hard Akira almost toppled over as he caught him. “Do you have any idea how worried we were? We thought you got caught in the Palace and died!”</p><p>“Woah, woah, woah,” said Akira, adjusting Morgana so he was holding him properly. “What’s all this about a Palace? Last thing I remember I was in the casino with all of you.” </p><p>A bit of minor subterfuge, but it was true that he still wasn’t completely sure what had been going on during his transformation. Everyone looked quite shocked by this news as well, which was interesting, to say the least. </p><p>“He doesn’t remember...” muttered Makoto, presumably to herself. </p><p>“Hey, where did you wake up then?” asked Futaba, narrowing her eyes at him. “Were you not in Shido’s Palace?”</p><p>Ah, now that was a bit awkward, being as apparently none of them knew about the Velvet Room yet. Honestly it was pretty amazing his younger self had managed to keep his cool and not tell any of them about it—Akira knew it had freaked <em>him</em> out when he first saw Igor (then again, it wasn’t like weird dreams were anything new to him)—on the other hand that meant explaining this had the potential to be very difficult.</p><p>“Long story,” he said, depositing Morgana back on the table. “Not in Shido’s Palace, no. Speaking of: Shido? Pretty sure our last target was Sae.”</p><p>It was at more or less that moment that the person who’s gaze he’d been trying to avoid ever since he walked in finally locked eyes with him. Akechi. Supposedly, the charms of his ten-year-old self had persuaded Akechi not to kill him. Understandable, really. Akira didn’t think Akechi was the type to kill children. That said, he definitely <em>was</em> the type to kill annoying teenagers, and given that was what Akira now was, he felt an odd sense of dread creep over him. </p><p>“There is no longer any need to go after Sae,” said Akechi, oddly calmly, given the turmoil that seemed to be churning underneath. “Shido was the one pressing for the investigation into the Phantom Thieves, so now his heart has been changed the investigation will be dropped, and Sae Niijima will be able to go on with her life as she was before.”</p><p>“So you did manage to change it then,” said Akira, pensively. “That’s good. His confession should get us off the hook if he really did order everything.”</p><p>There was a bit of a silence after that. It seemed Akechi knew that they knew, at least—he’d suspected as much after reading his younger self’s letters. That said, as a child, he suspected his younger self might not have understood everything going on. Akira did though. So now it was time to test exactly how far Akechi’s change of heart was going to stretch. </p><p>“You understand, though, that in order to actually convict him of anything, they’ll want to know who <em>was</em> causing all those mental shutdowns, right? They’ll need someone to testify about the Metaverse and how it works—given that’s how all his crimes were committed.” </p><p>Akechi narrowed his eyes. The air in the room was so tense you could almost cut it with a knife. Even Sojiro seemed to have caught on that this was no longer just a friendly gathering. </p><p>“So,” Akechi muttered, “you really did know everything.”</p><p>“It was pretty obvious once we worked out you’d been using the Metaverse before us,” said Akira, watching him very carefully. If he seemed liable to snap Akira would need to move quickly. “I mean, what else were you in there for? Solving crimes? I don’t think so.”</p><p>Akechi gave a disbelieving chuckle. “I suppose I have to give you credit. I didn’t peg you as someone so distrustful.”</p><p>“What are you going to do now?” asked Akira. “It’s only a matter of time before Shido confesses. And if he doesn’t do it before the election, it isn’t going to be pretty. The public will be out for his head either way, and by extension, yours. Do you think it’s smart to stay here?”</p><p>“Are you worried about me?” Akechi asked mockingly. </p><p>“I’m worried about <em>me,</em>” said Akira, sharply. “Let me make this clear: if you refuse to testify about your crimes, I will. And I’m not implicating myself for something I didn’t do. I won’t tell them to arrest you—I’m not that petty—but I <em>will</em> see to it that Shido pays for what he’s done, and that the world understands exactly <em>how</em> he did it.”</p><p>He owed it to his younger self not to let all his efforts go in vain. It must have been so stressful—only ten years old, and he’d managed to do so much... Akira couldn’t dishonour him like that. </p><p>Akechi was unreadable, his face set, his chin resting on his hands. It was an odd change for someone usually so obvious about his emotions, willingly or not. </p><p>“I’m...not sure you’ll need to do all that, Akira,” said Ann—an attempt at breaking the tension. “I mean, we only just got you back, so—”</p><p>“Fine,” said Akechi. “I’ll do it. I’ll turn myself in right now, if you want.”</p><p>Huh. He hadn’t been expecting that. </p><p>“You don’t need to do that. Shido hasn’t even confessed yet—save your self-sacrifice for when it’ll actually be useful.”</p><p>“Fine,” said Akechi, sharply. “I’ll be taking my leave then. Rest assured that when the day comes, I <em>will</em> be ‘useful’, as you put it.”</p><p>And with that he rose from the table and stormed out, brushing past Akira forcefully and closing the door behind him with barely contained rage. </p><p>There was about one minute of awkward silence.</p><p>“Welp, that could’ve gone better,” muttered Ryuji. </p><p>Akira let out a loud sigh. “Probably.”</p><p>“I honestly wasn’t expecting you to go that hard on him, Akira,” said Ann, looking at him with wide eyes. “Been kind of cranky since you got back? Oh, uh...do you even know what happened to you?”</p><p>“I know some of it,” said Akira, stretching his arms out in front of him. “And I know I turned into a kid, if that’s what you’re asking. Doesn’t change the fact that the last I saw of Akechi he was still planning to shoot me in the face. Call it a sore spot, if you want.”</p><p>“I guess that’s fair,” said Ryuji, shrugging. </p><p>“I can’t believe the younger you was actually nicer to him,” said Futaba. “And that kid wasn’t nice to anyone.”</p><p>“I doubt the younger me was <em>ever</em> afraid of Akechi,” said Akira. His notes certainly hadn’t suggested as much. “Isn’t it great being ten? So much self-confidence. Anyway, you’re all stuck with me again, so it’s a moot point, really.” </p><p>“Uh, yeah, about that,” said Futaba, narrowing her eyes. “Ten-year-old you? Pretty alarming little kid. Almost died about ten different times.”</p><p>Akira wrinkled his nose. “Surely ten is a stretch.”</p><p>“It’s not.”</p><p>“Futaba is correct,” said Yusuke. “Your child self had a truly unnerving disregard for his own life—all of us found it quite strange.”</p><p>Damn it. He’d suspected something like this might happen. Play it off, Akira.</p><p>“Really? It’s like you don’t even know me,” he said, jokingly. “Lack of self-preservation instinct is a universal trait of mine, regardless of age.”</p><p>“You should care more about your own safety, Akira,” said Haru, staring right at him. And hey, where was the usual honorific? What was going on here? “There are a lot of people who care about you.”</p><p>Ugh. He knew it was true, but that didn’t make hearing it any more uncomfortable. </p><p>“Ah, well, the past is the past,” he said, shrugging. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to him for all he’s done for me. There’s no way I could have convinced Akechi not to kill me, that’s for sure. But...he’s gone...now. So why linger on it? It’s been ages since I was a ten-year-old. Now you just have seventeen-year-old Akira to deal with.” </p><p>He smiled, and most of the people in the room relaxed a little. Notable exceptions including Futaba and Morgana. Too smart by half, those two. </p><p>“Well, it’s good to have you back, buddy,” said Ryuji, hopping off the stool and slinging his arm around Akira’s shoulder. “We’re not the same team without you.”</p><p>“Glad to hear it,” said Akira, smiling, but Morgana and Futaba were still staring at him.</p><p>And he was pretty sure he knew why.</p><hr/><p>It was some time before everyone left to go back home, and Sojiro announced he was closing up shop. </p><p>“Lemme stay here just a little bit longer, Sojiro—please!” whined Futaba. “It’s ages since I spoke to Akira!” </p><p>“Alright, alright,” he said, with a chuckle. “Just don’t come back too late, alright?”</p><p>“Promise!” declared Futaba.</p><p>Sojiro tipped his hat, then left through the front door. Almost the moment he did, Akira could feel Futaba and Morgana’s eyes on him, sizing him up. </p><p>“You know, it’s rude to stare,” he said lightly.</p><p>“Akira...” said Morgana quietly, swishing his tail. </p><p>“What is it?” he asked, as though he didn’t know.</p><p>The two of them exchanged a glance. </p><p>“It’s—” began Morgana.</p><p>“We know about your parents!” exploded Futaba, saying it so quickly he almost didn’t catch it.</p><p>Yeah. He’d been waiting for this pretty much since the moment he realised his ten-year-old self had come here. At least it was only the two of them.</p><p>“What do you know about them?” he asked, deciding to keep the tone as light as he could. </p><p>“That they’re—they’re—” Futaba seemed to be struggling to say it.</p><p>“Horrible people!” Morgana finished for her. “That they don’t care about you!”</p><p>Akira couldn’t help but frown. “I don’t know if I’d call them horrible people. Horrible parents, yeah, but perfectly decent people, as far as I can tell.” </p><p>“Uh, those two things don’t add up,” said Morgana, aggressively. </p><p>“Yeah,” said Futaba, scowling. “You can’t neglect your kid and be a perfectly nice person, Akira.”</p><p>Ouch. It was a good thing his parents would never have to meet them. </p><p>“It’s fine,” he said. “That’s all in the past now, anyway.”</p><p>“Oh, what, they suddenly started caring about you?” asked Morgana. “Don’t lie, Akira, I know they haven’t tried to contact you once since you moved here.”</p><p>“I don’t mean that,” said Akira, firmly. “I don’t think there’s a force on this earth that could make that happen. I just mean it doesn’t bother me anymore, and that, now I’m basically an adult, it doesn’t really matter either. And they’re not bad people. When I lived back home they gave me a roof over my head, and money for food. Even now they’re paying for a private school, and for Sojiro to keep me. They’re the only reason I’m not homeless right now.”</p><p>“But that’s not—” Futaba began.</p><p>“I know your experience of parenthood was different,” said Akira. “And I know there are a lot of things my parents could have done that they didn’t, because they’re lazy and apathetic—but you have to understand, Futaba, there are thousands of bad parents out there. Perhaps more bad ones than good ones. And considering how badly they <em>could</em> have treated me, I’m pretty much okay with the fact the worst they’ve ever done is forgotten I existed. It could have been much worse. Much, much worse. And I’m alright now, aren’t I?” </p><p>Futaba let out a heavy sigh, hanging her head. “It’s not that I think anything’s wrong with you, Akira...” </p><p>“Then what’s the problem?”</p><p>“The problem is that we never knew they treated you that way,” said Morgana, his ears pressed back slightly. “And you still have to go back to them at the end of the year, right?”</p><p>Ugh. As though he needed the reminder.</p><p>“Yeah, but it’ll just be same old, same old. It’s not like they <em>hurt</em> me, Mona. All I’ve got to do is stick out another year and I’ll come back to do university here—it’s really no big deal.” </p><p>“But they <em>have</em> hurt you,” Futaba insisted. “The younger you was...so angry. Like he couldn’t stand the thought of having friends or family. You can’t say that’s right!”</p><p>Akira sighed. “The younger me was ten years old, Futaba, what did you expect from him? I was less emotionally stable then. But I grew up, matured, and changed my point of view, like everyone does. It’s fine now. I promise.” </p><p>He hoped he was getting through to her, but he wasn’t sure he was. She could be so stubborn... And it wasn’t like she wasn’t right either—neglect <em>was</em> classified as abuse, which was why he was so keen to divert the topic. After all, it wasn’t like he wanted to be taken away from his parents or anything—dreadful though they were, they really did provide him with money, and he didn’t have enough of it to spare if he got cut off from them to move back to Tokyo again. And he had to move back. He had to. </p><p>“Listen,” he said, straightening up, “I understand why you’re worried. I know I could be...troublesome, when I was younger. But he’s gone now. And<em> I’m</em> okay. There’s nothing you need to worry about, alright? If anything happens, I’ll sort it. I always do.”</p><p>Futaba sniffed. Oh no, this was no good. “You shouldn’t have to fix everything for us all the time. You should be able to rest too.”</p><p>“I do rest!” said Akira, mock-offended. “Just ask Morgana, he insists on it.” </p><p>“That’s not what I meant!” </p><p>Akira sighed, making his way back around to her side of the table, crouching down so he was at eye-level with her. “Hey,” he said, “look at me.” She did, her eyes shimmering in the lamplight. “Have I ever given you any reason to think I wasn’t okay?” </p><p>She shook her head slowly. “No.”</p><p>“Do you think that, if I was in trouble, I would lie to you about it?” </p><p>She shook her head again.</p><p>“There, then,” he said, pulling some tissues out of his pocket. “Dry your eyes, and I’ll walk you back to Sojiro’s. I promise you, Futaba, I <em>would</em> tell you if there was something major worrying me. You don’t have to worry on my behalf. It will only make you miserable.” </p><p>She nodded, and blew her nose loudly into the tissue. “I get it,” she said, sniffing.</p><p>She was quiet on the way back to Sojiro’s house, but Akira could still feel Morgana staring at him. It seemed he wasn’t quite off the hook yet. The relentless scrutiny continued all the way back to the cafe and right back up into his room.</p><p>“That was some impressive deflecting you did there,” said Morgana, hopping onto Akira’s bed as he slung down his bag. </p><p>“Not deflecting if it keeps her from worrying unnecessarily.”</p><p>“Is it unnecessary?” asked Morgana, piercing blue eyes staring at him. </p><p>“If you ask me,” said Akira, with a shrug.</p><p>“You understand that it’s not okay what they did though, don’t you?” asked Morgana, ask Akira got changed into his pyjamas. “You know what they did was wrong.”</p><p>“I know,” said Akira, sitting next to him on the bed. “But I try not to think about it.”</p><p>“Is that healthy?”</p><p>“Keeps me alive, doesn’t it?”</p><p>Morgana stared at him, a wordless expression of concern written all over his small face. Akira wished he could say something to make it right, but he knew he couldn’t. </p><p>“Come on,” he said, getting under the covers and lying on his side. “Shouldn’t you be bugging me to get to sleep by now?” </p><p>“Akira...”</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about this anymore today. I’m too tired.”</p><p>He heard Morgana sigh, then felt him curl up in a ball next to him. “Get some sleep then,” he said quietly. </p><p>Unfortunately, Akira knew full well he wouldn’t.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Teenage Akira: *manifests* Nice! I’m back!<br/>Yaldy: *menaces everyone*<br/>Caroline and Justine: *fuse together*<br/>Akechi: *remembers he hates teenage!Akira*<br/>Futaba and Morgana: Hey, aren’t your parents abusive? Why didn’t you say anything?<br/>Teenage Akira: I take it back, let me back into the void pls.</p><p>Welp, and here we get a deeper look into why Akira's childhood hasn't come up before. Mainly because he is <em>very good</em> at deflecting. And also kind of in denial. Don't you just love a heaping of unhealthy coping mechanisms on top of childhood trauma? We do in this house! Anyway, thanks so much to everyone who's been reading—we're coming towards the end now, with Teen Akira's return, so I hope you guys have been enjoying the ride!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. One Last Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Welcome back, Trickster,” said Igor.</p>
<p>“Hi, Igor,” muttered Akira, forcing himself upright. Oh, the cell was open now. That was nice.</p>
<p>“Are you enjoying your newfound freedom?” asked Igor, noticing how he glanced at the bars. </p>
<p>“Haven’t had much time yet,” said Akira, going to stand in the doorway. “And if I’m right I won’t have much longer in here anyway.”</p>
<p>“That is indeed correct,” said Lavenza. “You have a matter of days to act before the usurper destroys this world entirely.” </p>
<p>Akira sighed deeply. Well, it just wasn’t a trip to the Velvet Room if there wasn’t an ominous portent of doom, was it? </p>
<p>“And by ‘destroy the world’ you mean...?”</p>
<p>“Apathy will take over,” supplied Lavenza. “Your victory over Shido will mean nothing, and his lackeys will use his research into the Metaverse to take this country by force. The usurper will facilitate this, as it suits his needs.”</p>
<p>“I see,” murmured Akira. “And how do we find him, exactly?”</p>
<p>“What an odd question,” said Lavenza, staring at him. “After all, you’ve already seen him.”</p>
<p>Wait. That <em>thing</em> wasn’t...</p>
<p>“The Treasure that lies in the depths of Mementos and the usurper are one and the same being,” said Igor. “To destroy him, you must destroy it.”</p>
<p>“Right,” mumbled Akira. Well, that shouldn’t be too difficult. Just steal the Treasure of all humanity. Fine. “What about my friends?” he asked. “Is there...any particular reason they’re trapped here?” </p>
<p>“Hmm, most likely because the usurper deemed them a threat,” said Igor. “You needn’t worry any longer, however, as I have released them from their bonds as best I could. They are now as free as you—albeit, perhaps not entirely conscious of where they are.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” said Akira, letting out a sigh of relief. “That’s something, at least.”</p>
<p>“Would you like to see them?” asked Lavenza. </p>
<p>“No,” said Akira, shaking his head. Seeing an unconscious, imprisoned Futaba just once was more than enough, in his opinion. “If they’re free then they’re free. Hopefully that should stop anything horrible happening to them.”</p>
<p>“I had much the same thought,” said Igor, with a grin. </p>
<p>“So we need to go down to the bottom of Mementos,” he muttered, thoughtfully. “I take it that shortcut I used earlier isn’t going to be any use anymore?” </p>
<p>“Not to your friends, no,” said Lavenza.</p>
<p>Akira sighed. Typical. </p>
<p>“Guess I’ll have to do this the hard way.” </p>
<p>Both Igor and Lavenza smiled at him in a pitying sort of fashion. </p>
<p>“That you will, Trickster,” said Igor. “That you will.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>It went about how Akira had expected. Well—apart from the colossus he was now facing down—he hadn’t exactly expected that. He didn’t think anyone could have expected that. </p>
<p>“They’re helping us—all of them!” cried Haru, staring down at the masses below.</p>
<p>She was right. He could feel it. </p>
<p>Like raw power coursing through his veins, something was shifting inside him, twisting and moving—expanding into something...greater. Greater than ever before. </p>
<p><em>It’s time,</em> a voice echoed in his ears. <em>Are you ready to face your destiny?</em></p>
<p>Well, there could be only one answer to that. </p>
<p>“I am.”</p>
<p>A colossal sound—a sound the likes of which he’d never heard before echoed around him, like a thousand glass panes shattering at once, like the very fabric of the world tearing in two—thundering through his ears, deafening him as he took the chains surging around him and cast them away one last time. </p>
<p>Then it equalised. Silence reigned. </p>
<p>He could hardly breathe. </p>
<p>Yaldabaoth was saying something, thundering in his awful, mechanical voice, but Akira didn’t hear him. He didn’t need to. </p>
<p>He raised his hand; ready, at last, to put an end to all this—ready to give Yaldabaoth the reckoning he deserved. </p>
<p>He had one bullet left in his gun. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that the being behind him had one too. One would be more than enough. </p>
<p>Air rushed past him—adrenaline still pumping through his veins. </p>
<p>His finger rested on the trigger. </p>
<p>Then he pulled. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>If you’d asked him what happened next he wouldn’t be able to describe it to you. Something like time and space melding into one—a strange portal where reality once was, and he—he was floating in the midst of it. Adrift and alone. </p>
<p>But not for long. </p>
<p>Soon, a being appeared in front of him. Faint at first but second by second it grew more solid, resolving itself into a figure. A familiar figure. A...boy? </p>
<p>The child blinked in surprise as he stared up at Akira, his large, dark, painfully familiar eyes narrowing, as he seemed to understand what it was he was seeing. </p>
<p>“You,” he said, his small voice sounding older than Akira had been expecting. “You’re me, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>But then, he always had acted old for his age. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” he said. “That’s me.” </p>
<p>The boy cocked his head, looking at Akira pensively. </p>
<p>“I expected you to be taller,” he said at last.</p>
<p>Akira couldn’t push down the bubble of laughter that rose within him at that. “Is that so? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but this is probably as tall as we’ll get.”</p>
<p>The boy sighed discontentedly. “How troublesome,” he muttered. </p>
<p>They stared at each other in silence for a moment, sizing each other up. Akira noticed how small and thin his younger self was, noticed his pallid face, his tired eyes—his air of one much older than his mere ten years. He would be worried, had he seen such a child on the street. But he had never lingered on the streets in his youth. After all, he’d been much too smart for that. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” said Akira, addressing the boy directly. “I read about all you’ve done for me. I appreciate it—I really do—I think if you hadn’t I’d have had a much higher chance of dying out there these past few days.”</p>
<p>“Oh, so you’re alive then?” said his younger self, suddenly perking up. “I had wondered, since you were here...”</p>
<p>“To my knowledge, yes,” said Akira. </p>
<p>“Well, I had to do <em>something,</em>” said the boy, now turning slightly bashful. “When I read your journal—read how worried you were, I knew I couldn’t just leave it alone, you know?“</p>
<p>“I know,” said Akira. “Believe me, I do.” </p>
<p>His younger self chuckled. “Well, of course you would. You would know everything...” He turned silent, his face growing set. “You know, there’s something I always wanted to ask you while I was there—in your world, I mean.”</p>
<p>Akira suspected he already knew what it was, but he just nodded for his younger self to continue.</p>
<p>“Your friends—why do they...why <em>did</em> they care so much? When I came here, even though I wasn’t you, they seemed to really...really care what happened to me. I don’t think I ever quite understood it. Do you know why, Akira?”</p>
<p>Akira smiled at him, though he knew full-well it was just because he wanted the boy to focus on his mouth and not his eyes, which were already filling again with tears. To have been this lonely and not even realised it...there was a lot he’d forgotten about his childhood. A lot he didn’t want to remember, to be honest. But...did he know? Perhaps he really didn’t...</p>
<p>“I suppose I can’t really give you an answer to that,” he said, blinking heavily. “They feel how they feel. You can’t change that. All you can do is...accept it—understand their point of view as best you can. It’s not easy, I know. But it does get easier. I promise.” </p>
<p>“Does it?” asked the boy. He didn’t sound too hopeful. “That seems...almost too optimistic.”</p>
<p>“Well, you aren’t dead yet, are you?” asked Akira, pointing to himself.</p>
<p>His younger self grinned. “I guess not.” He blinked a few times, staring at Akira intently, his eyes seeming to linger particularly on his face. “You’re in disguise, aren’t you? That’s part of why they don’t see you properly—you’ve got those on your face to hide your eyes away.”</p>
<p>He pointed at Akira’s glasses, and Akira found himself reaching for them nervously. Not that he should have been surprised—reading people generally came quite easily to him, so it wasn’t really so strange that his younger self would do it to him. </p>
<p>“I suppose you could call it that,” he said, adjusting his glasses on his face. “But how do you know my eyesight didn’t just get worse? Reading a lot can do that to you, you know.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense,” said his younger self fiercely, and Akira had to contain a laugh. “Don’t talk rubbish to me—they’re fake, and I know they’re fake because I see them in the store every day same as you.” </p>
<p>Ah, he’d forgotten how fiery he could be when he was younger. It was quite sweet. </p>
<p>“One of the few privileges of living in Itoiyama, then,” said Akira, smiling at him. “But yes, they’re all part of my cunning disguise—pretending to be a normal human.”</p>
<p>“You <em>are</em> a normal human,” said the boy, unimpressed. </p>
<p>“Am I?” asked Akira, sliding his glasses down to the bottom of his nose and glaring over them like an elderly librarian. “What if I’m a monster?”</p>
<p>Quick as a cat pouncing on a mouse, his younger self leapt forward and grabbed the glasses right off his nose, sliding them onto his own face and looking around in them curiously.</p>
<p>“No,” he said, looking up at Akira with a pensive expression on his face, “I don’t think you are.” </p>
<p>“Give those back,” said Akira, unable to repress a grin.</p>
<p>“Why do you need them?” taunted his younger self. “You shouldn’t lie to all your friends like that, it’s rude.”</p>
<p>“It’s not a lie,” said Akira. “It’s a calculated deception to make them feel more comfortable.”</p>
<p>“A white lie, then.” </p>
<p>“If you want.”</p>
<p>His younger self sighed and slipped the glasses back off his face, holding them in his hands. “I couldn’t wear these all day. They seem like such a hassle.”</p>
<p>“You get used to them,” said Akira, holding out his hand for the boy to return them to him.</p>
<p>He let out another grumpy sigh, and then did so.</p>
<p>“I knew there would be something,” he muttered. “Some reason they weren’t afraid...”</p>
<p>“Actual social skills help too,” said Akira, brightly. </p>
<p>“You pipe down,” said his younger self. “I have plenty of social skills.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yeah!”</p>
<p>“Well, tell me when you’ve cracked how not to talk like a sixty-year-old and then we’ll talk.”</p>
<p>“Shut up!” seethed the boy, glowering at him. “And I already know when.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” asked Akira, raising an eyebrow.</p>
<p>His younger self sarcastically raised both arms, pointing to him. “By seventeen, I’ll have reduced my vocabulary so much I sound like a fourth-grader—so cometh the day—”</p>
<p>“You stop that,” said Akira, pushing his younger self’s arms down. “And I sound normal for my age.”</p>
<p>“If you say so,” said the boy, skeptically. His expression suddenly turned sombre once more. “Hey, it was...nice, getting to talk to like this. I don’t know how much longer it will last.”</p>
<p>“No,” said Akira, pensively. “Not long now, I imagine.”</p>
<p>“You read what I wrote in the diary, right?”</p>
<p>The boy seemed reluctant to meet his eyes.</p>
<p>“I did,” said Akira. “And I will stay with them as long as I’m able, I promise.”</p>
<p>The boy gave a small smile. “That’s good. I don’t want them to be...lonely, without you.”</p>
<p>Wherever they were now. </p>
<p>“No. I wouldn’t want that either.”</p>
<p>“We don’t have much time left,” said his younger self, glancing around. “I guess this is where we say goodbye.”</p>
<p>Akira smiled at him, and the boy smiled back. It was amazing the effect it had on his face. Suddenly he looked almost like the ten-year-old he was meant to be, instead of the weary creature he was. </p>
<p>“Will you be alright?” Akira asked him.</p>
<p>The boy shrugged. “Probably. I was barely even real to begin with. And given the time I had in your world—I’m happy with what I did there.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad of that,” said Akira, smiling at him. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” said the boy, nodding. “It was...almost fun.”</p>
<p>Both of them were beginning to fade from whatever strange plane of reality they were on, hands becoming transparent as they were spirited away to the place they truly belonged. </p>
<p>Akira extended his faded, half-transparent hand. The boy took it, peering at him curiously.</p>
<p>“We’re going back no matter what, right? There’s no rush.”</p>
<p>The boy smiled, and grasped a little tighter. “No, I guess not.”</p>
<p>So they sat. And they waited. </p>
<p>And eventually, the world began again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh my goodness, it's finally finished! </p>
<p>Thanks to everyone who's stuck with this story all the way through—it's been a wild ride to write and I had a lot of fun with Kid Akira messing everything up! I confess I had considered making this chapter a little longer and focusing on the aftermath of Teen Akira coming back, but ultimately I thought that Kid Akira was really the centre of this fic, so it was only right to have the final chapter focus on sending him off, and letting him have that reconciliation with his older self he'd always wanted. </p>
<p>I hope you guys enjoyed this final chapter, and thank you so much to everyone who's read and commented, I really appreciated it and I hope you guys had as much fun reading it as I did writing it!</p>
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